Stolen Away
by Proud Titania
Summary: A retelling of a number of different mermaid stories, all tied into the story of the Lord and Lady de Winter. Continuation of Three Simple Gifts.
1. Questionable Beginnings

Disclaimer: The Little Mermaid, in any of its forms, does not belong to me. Nor does The Mermaid in the Millpond. Emma and Dominic do, in fact, belong to me. If it was up to me, they would be very much alive…

The wedding feast was over and no blood had been spilled.

Not quite a conventional beginning for a fairy tale, but this is no conventional fairy tale! In fact, for the two people most involved in it, it was not at all a fairy tale, but real life.

"Emma!" a voice called from the bottom of the stairs.

"Coming!" rang the response from the top.

A flurry of footsteps and frou-frou, and the Lady de Winter appeared at the foot of the stairs, where Lord de Winter, né Prince Dominic, was waiting.

"You needn't always rush down like that, you know," he casually commented as she caught her breath.

"Force of habit," she replied, between gasps.

"I know it," he said and looked away sadly. The thought that his beloved Emma should have endured so many years of misery and servitude was not something he liked to think about.

"Whose ball is this?" she interrupted his thoughts.

"A cousin of mine," he abruptly answered.

"Do you like him?"

"Her."

"Oh. Well, do you like her?"

"She is kind enough."

"Enough?"

"A palace brat," he said with another sigh. "We are all of us palace brats. We know nothing of what it is to actually work."

"Dominic, please, don't start up with this again!"

"And why not, Emma?"

"Because… because you can do nothing about it. It is past, that is all!"

"If I had only known! I might have done something—"

"Love," she whispered, placing a finger across his lips. "All that matters is that I am no longer a servant. Nor am I married to a homicidal maniac," she added with a wink.

"I don't understand how you can joke about that," he grumbled in response.

"I learned a long time ago that if you don't know how to laugh, even at your own misery, you are a lost soul," she replied, casting a glance at the door.

Dominic followed her stare and offered his arm to her. She took it and they walked through the foyer and out to the carriage. The subject was dropped for now. It disturbed Emma, however, just how much Dominic liked to bring it up.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

During the ride to his cousin's palace, Dominic was writhing with discomfort. A thought nagged at him that something was not quite right.

He had given up his throne for Emma, true, which had made his family dislike her immensely. He did not yet fully understand why she had asked it, but he knew there was a reason. Meanwhile, he was glad that she had done it. He knew an ordinary life now, free from the constraints of royalty and its obligations.

Life as a lord was certainly different from life as a prince, though he still had not given up all of his previous comforts. The de Winter estate was quite vast, so he and Emma would never want. Perhaps this was what bothered him.

"I'm the husband!" he tormented himself. "I should be the one to provide the fortune, not the other way around!"

Suffering and experience had not changed Dominic completely. He was still, in many ways, an impetuous boy. Thus, many of his beliefs had remained nothing short of medieval.

Now they were going to visit his cousin Beatrice. She was not a bad woman. In fact, she was quite sweet when she wanted to be. She was a decade older than Dominic and married, with a handsome son of four years. Dominic had not seen his nephew in quite a while and was eager to meet with the boy. There was one man he had absolutely no wish to see, however.

This man was the husband of Beatrice, Duke Ernest of Forsythe. While a supposedly good landlord, husband, and father, Dominic knew that there were unpleasant stories about the man. These always created an unpleasant atmosphere whenever Dominic was around him. Something was wrong about the man and, while he had never figured it out, Dominic disliked being in his company.

It was this list of things that made him rather surly for the duration of the carriage ride. He smiled only once, glancing over at his beautiful wife and seeing her adorned in the finest dress he could find this side of the Channel.

"What is it?" she enquired, seeing him staring at her, a faint smile upon his lips.

"I was just thinking about how fortunate I am to have you by my side."

"Well, we all know what would happen if I wasn't by your side…"

"Oh?"

"I would be throwing snowballs at you from the other side!" she teased.

He grinned and remembered the fateful day when he had first met this girl. A faint headache surfaced, reminding him of the painful throb of love at first sight. Or, in Emma's case, first toss.

The carriage had rolled up to the entrance and the pair exited. Emma ducked her head as they stepped out, to avoid getting her extravagant hat caught on the carriage door.

"I don't understand why you like these ridiculous head-dresses so much!" Dominic said and clucked his tongue disapprovingly.

"I spent years tying ribbons for Maria; now I can tie them for myself!"

"Still…" he shrugged, eyeing the ridiculous thing.

"It's the latest fashion, Dominic!" she finally proclaimed, exasperated by the mock-seriousness of the argument. They had reached the gates and were being beckoned inside by servants in fine livery.

"Are you ready?" he asked her, as they crossed the threshold together.

"Of course," she said with a smile.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

All of the lost years that might have been spent at balls were deeply regretted by Emma, who now took every opportunity to make them up. And with good reason!

Emma was, in every way, the belle of the ball. She was perfectly charming, lovely, and she always made an entrance that was dazzling enough to draw every eye to her.

Many who saw Lady de Winter for the first time at a ball understood why a prince would give up his throne for her.

She danced a polonaise and two waltzes with Dominic, then wandered off to speak with fellow lords and ladies. Dominic watched her mingle, amazed. Years of scrubbing floors had not stolen her charm; indeed, they seemed to enhance her sparkle. Everybody who spoke with her was enchanted, even if they had originally bristled to meet a woman of such ill reputation.

Duchess Beatrice of Forsythe was especially courteous to her new cousin, extending a special invitation to the young lady.

"Tell me, what do you think of my cousin?" she asked, smiling down upon her. The Duchess was a very tall woman.

"He is a terrible tyrant, a sulking, spoiled child, and perfect in every way," Emma responded without a second thought.

"I'm glad he found someone," Beatrice said. "I often feared he would wind up alone."

"Many resent me for robbing him of a throne."

"Oh, I know, child. But do not think of them. You were quite right in doing what you did."

"Oh?"

"Well, yes. He was not fit to be a king, I should think."

Emma bristled at this.

"Of course he was fit!"

"My dear girl, no need to shout. I am merely stating the obvious. I, in fact, am very glad he is not to be king. He leaves it in far more capable hands," she stated amiably.

"His brother is still young…" Emma began, but was cut off.

"Not his brother! Oh, dear, is that what you thought?"

"Who, then?" she asked, bewildered.

"My husband, of course!"

A/N: Here it is! I told you! Isn't it wonderful? I like it so much, I'm probably going to start the second chapter tonight… Review and let me know what you think!


	2. Never Cross A Duchess

"Nicholas!" Dominic exclaimed, as he saw a little boy winding his way towards him. He adored his now-five-year-old nephew and had been more excited about seeing him than anything else he could expect at this party.

"Uncle Dom!" the boy exclaimed. Ever since he had been small, Dominic had always told him to call him by this name, as opposed to the stiff and formal "Your Highness".

"Oh, Nicky, I missed you!" he shouted, sweeping the little boy into his arms.

"Uncle Dom, where have you been?" Nicholas demanded of him.

"I was very busy. I've brought you an aunt!"

"Is she nice?"

"Very nice. She will love you, just as you will love her."

"I can't love her as much as you, Uncle Dom."

"No, I think you'll like her much better," he said with a sly wink.

The boy giggled and again went to embrace his long-errant uncle.

Just at that moment, there was a commotion at the farther end of the hall.

"Nicky, wait here," Dominic said, setting him down upon the floor and putting out a warning hand.

"Uncle Dom, I want to come with y—"

But Dominic did not hear the last part of this plea, for he had seen the cause of the commotion and was now confronted with the sight of his cousin, starting down her nose at his wife, who was flustered and panting. Beatrice's cheek was swollen.

"For Heaven's sake, Emma! What are you thinking!" Dominic shouted, running to her side.

"This viper! She planned it all along, no doubt! How appropriate, that you should vacate a throne for her commoner husband!" Emma fulminated.

"Am I to understand that I forced Dominic from the throne?" Beatrice replied calmly.

"No, but I have seen what severe illness is, and I know enough now to be able to detect poison when I see it!"

"Children are susceptible to illness," she said simply. "My own Nicholas has been sick with cold three times already."

"Then why do you rely so much upon Edward's death?"

"He is very sick," she replied, again shrugging her shoulders.

Dominic paled.

"What do you mean, 'Edward's death'!" he interrupted, bursting in upon this dialogue for the first time.

Emma turned and went to his side, seeing him for the first time.

"This monster has seen fit to poison your brother," she scowled.

"Emma, darling, what would make you say that?" he asked nervously. This was the last kind of trouble he needed right now.

"She as good as admitted to it!" Emma shrieked.

"Please, Emma, calm down," he whispered fiercely into her ear.

"No! I will not see them destroy what your family has built up over so many years! I will not!"

Emma would have ripped herself from Dominic's arms, but for the fact that she was quite suddenly overcome with a dizzy spell and collapsed, still held firmly around the shoulders.

Dominic held her close to himself and looked up at Beatrice, bewildered.

"What happened?"

"Your wife is mad, Dominic," Beatrice said coldly. "You should have known better than to bring a creature like that into my house. And before my son, too."

She began to walk away, nursing her cheek.

"She is not mad!" he jumped to her defense.

"Oh? Then explain why she thinks I have poisoned your brother!"

"She… she has had great difficulty in her life," he replied lamely.

"Oh? Like murdering her first husband on the night of their wedding?"

"You don't understand!"

"Do you?"

There was a long silence. The entire hall had hushed to listen to this battle of wills.

"Oh, Dominic," she walked towards him. "Do you think I wanted this for you? First your brother, and now this…"

"What about my brother?" he asked again. His voice was dangerously quiet.

"He has fallen ill. Good Heavens, Dominic, are you completely isolated from court life in that cottage of hers?" she asked with derision.

"He… what?"

"The doctors say it was a draft; nothing can be done."

"No! I don't believe you!"

"I'm sorry, Dominic…" She laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. He did not pull away. Everything that he thought was certain was suddenly wrong. His wife was mad, his brother was dying, and his whole life was pulling out of his control. For a moment, he felt unsteady on his feet and nearly dropped Emma, whom he had scooped up into his arms.

"I... I have to go, Beatrice…" he said, his voice shaking.

"I'm so sorry, Dominic." Her own eyes were full of tears. "Nobody wanted this. If you want, I will send my personal physician to care for her. There are places—"

"No!" The word rang through the hall. "She is not mad," he whispered fiercely, half to himself, half to Beatrice.

"Then she was aware of what she was doing," another voice supplied.

Dominic turned around slowly, knowing exactly to whom this voice belonged.

"Your Grace," he said with clenched teeth.

Emma was stirring in his arms, so he allowed her to stand on her own two feet and stood in front of her, as if defending her from the monstrous Duke.

Duke Ernest of Forsythe stood two metres tall. Whenever he entered a room, he seemed to fill it up, and he always stooped to enter a doorway.

He looked his most formidable now, his eyes flashing with the rage of the insult done to his wife.

"And if she knew what she was doing…"

Emma was now fully conscious, but remained silent. The sight of this man made her shiver for some reason.

Nicholas was standing by Beatrice's side and clutching at her skirts, terrified of his own father.

"She had a fit of hysterics. Women are susceptible to them," Dominic replied coolly.

Just as Emma was about to protest this hurt to her pride, he nudged her with his elbow to keep silent. She took the hint.

"These hysterics are enough to get her hanged."

"You forget who I am," Dominic growled.

"I beg your pardon, Lord de Winter," the Duke replied, dropping into a sarcastic bow.

Dominic was silent for a moment, having forgotten that these words no longer had the weight of previous times.

Beatrice interrupted them. "Ernest, leave them alone. They are family. The poor girl is frantic because her brother in law is very ill."

"Hush, woman," he replied, with a glare in her direction. She did not shake beneath it, as everybody else seemed to.

"De Winter, you will regret the day you brought that woman into my house," the Duke proclaimed. "As for the time being, I declare I will have justice for my wronged wife."

Emma remained silent. She was used to this kind of treatment. However, now it seemed to be even more serious, since she had gotten Dominic involved. What had happened to their happy little life? Why did this have to intrude? She had meant to avoid all of this by ducking out of becoming a princess. Now, she had to deal with all of it and more.

"Send her away!" the Duke shouted.

"What do you mean?" Dominic answered the challenge.

"She is unfit for polite society. A trip abroad, perhaps, will cool her down?"

"I tell you, man, she is perfectly sane!" Dominic exclaimed.

"Nevertheless," the Duke replied, sneering, "I do not want to see her in England within the next year. Do not force me to have her incarcerated, Dominic. You know I can do that."

Dominic stood still, wondering why the Duke was so eager to be shot of Emma. However, the offer of a year abroad in exchange for a pardon was tempting. He took the bait.

"Very well. She and I will go abroad."

"Who said anything about you?" the Duke sneered.

"We will go together."

"I said that she will go abroad, not you."

"She will not go if I do not accompany her," he proclaimed vehemently.

"What kind of punishment would it be, if you accompanied her? Besides, wouldn't you rather be at your brother's side. He is ailing quite seriously…"

Dominic now understood. He didn't care where Emma was, so long as the two were separated and unhappy. It all made sense. However, he knew the Duke would have her thrown into jail, something that he could not undo with a royal edict this time. He knew what must be done, therefore.

"Very well. One year. She will go and I shall remain."

"Wonderful!" the Duke practically beamed. "I knew you would see reason…"

Emma stood aghast at this whole exchange. Didn't she get a say in this? Why was Dominic casting her aside?

Dominic was standing stock-still. He couldn't believe he was agreeing to this sadistic accord. But, what was to be done? She had hit the Duchess. What was to be done?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A little boy watched anxiously as his father and his uncle argued. He did not know what the argument was about, but his eyes continually darted towards the beautiful lady who stood behind his uncle. She looked scared. He could not blame her. His father was scary.

Emma. Her name was Emma. Uncle Dom had called her that, and she looked frightened now. His father had frightened her. He was saying she would have to go away. Why? Why did such a nice lady have to leave? He would like her, Uncle Dom had said. But now she had to go. Otherwise, Father would be angry. That would be worse.

He clutched his mother's skirts, and she swatted at him. She told him not to do that. Dukes' sons did not do such things. Nicholas did not understand what a Duke was and why their sons were always told not to do things. Maybe it would be better if he were just an ordinary boy.

He had never even met her, and now she was leaving. Her beautiful dress dragged along the floor like a moving carpet, and her hair had fallen down, just as her hat had fallen off. Nicholas watched her leave.

"Aunt Emma," he whispered to himself. "Good-bye."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"You can't do this!"

"You gave me permission to deport her for a year," was the steady reply. A woman's screams were heard over the shouting of the other man.

"Let me at least say a farewell!"

"No, I don't think I shall."

"How can you be so heartless!" Dominic cried, as he saw Emma being dragged away be three men as burly as the Duke. He would have run after her, but that he was also being restrained.

"There are things about that woman you don't know. She never meant to tell you, I suppose, about her pact with the Devil?"

"_What!_"

"How else could she have killed that poor man?"

"With a weapon, as all other men do!"

"A weapon, but how was it obtained?"

"What are you talking about!"

"Your beloved is not what she seems."

"Are you mad!" was the deafening response.

"Quite sane, actually, and seeing clearly for the first time in a long time. I'm sorry that you had so little time with her, but you will thank me one day, when you realize what I freed you from."

The horses had been whipped and the post-chaise moved off, bearing Emma inside, away.

Dominic wanted to run after her, but all he felt was fatigue. He couldn't move and it was more than just the man holding him back which prevented him from following the path of his beloved. This time, she could not be traced with a bracelet. This time, she was not a nameless girl who ran from a ball. She was his wife, and she was being carried away for a year. Then, it struck him.

"Where are you taking her?"

"Ah, so you thought to ask? Don't worry, you won't know."

"The continent?"

"Perhaps."

"Then where?"

"So you can chase after her? I don't think so, Dominic."

The informal address caused Dominic to bristle. He had become accustomed to hearing "Your Highness" from this man. It was all that kept him from thinking that he could easily overpower him.

"I swear, if you hurt one hair upon her head, I will—"

"You'll what? Brandish your toy sword at me? I tell you I am doing you a favour by ridding you of that demon! Don't worry, she will return within a year. If not, well, then we will know she killed herself out of grief or madness. She is quite possessed by both."

"You vile, wretched—"

These vituperations were interrupted by the Duke.

"Wouldn't you like to be with your brother in his time of need?"

Dominic instantly hushed. The gravity of the situation became clearer to him now. No wonder Emma overreacted as she did. With his brother dead and his own claims to the throne given up, Ernest would become the next in line. He decided not to voice his concerns, for they had done nothing for Emma; they would do nothing for him now.

Most of all, he found it difficult to believe that Beatrice could be in on such a terrible thing.

As he hung his head and ceded to the men who restrained him, the Duke gave a flick of the wrist, as if to say, "Release him." He was released, but did not give chase in the direction of the departed post-chaise. Instead, he pondered the terrible state of the world, in which men could poison ten-year-old children and mothers could condone such acts…

A/N: This is turning out to be a very interesting plot. I am sorry that it is so depressing right now, but it won't be an angst-fest; trust me! This is an Emma-Dominic story, remember? I am quite proud of this story. I honestly had only a rough sketch of an idea for what to do, but it all came to me very suddenly, and now I am planning a complete departure from any of the fairy tales I mentioned. Don't worry, it's going to be really good!

The title makes sense now, right? It will make even more sense later…

Faylinn: Thanks for your note! If you don't get a chance to read Three Simple Gifts, feel free to ask questions about plot points you don't understand or characters that are unfamiliar to you.

InChrist: I know, this is now completely not funny at all. But before things can get better, they have to get worse. Stay with me, you know Emma and Dominic can get out of this rough patch. I agree with you completely about the fanciness, by the way. I mean, she's supposed to be a nobleman's daughter! I hope this new chapter doesn't completely kill you…

As always, much love to my reviewers. Here are two new chapters for you!

-Titania

P.S. Please don't hate me for doing this to Emma… It will make sense later, I swear!

P.P.S. REVIEW!


	3. Lives on the Line

Dominic woke the next day to a dreadful headache and looked around, only to realize that he was not in his customary room and bed. He was, in fact, lying under mounds of sheets and blankets, a phenomenon that had not occurred since he had left the palace. Yet here he was, in the palace…

Then, it came to him in a flash. Beatrice. The ball. Emma. Emma!

He lunged up in bed instantly, shivering all over as he remembered her shouting as she was taken away.

"Emma?" he asked feverishly, looking around.

"No, sire, she's not 'ere," a voice spoke softly. He looked up to see Henry sitting on a chair nearby, head lifted only slightly from where it had been hanging between his knees.

"Henry?"

"Aye."

"What are you doing here?"

"When I 'eard wot they done to Emms, I 'ad to come," he explained.

"Thank you, Henry," Dominic said, heaving a sigh.

"Why did they?"

"I don't know," Dominic fibbed.

"Yes, ye do," Henry pried, staring at him with wide eyes.

"I… I don't understand why the Duke said that Emma…" he trailed off, not finishing his sentence.

"Wot?"

"He said that she… she had made a pact with the Devil," he finally blurted out.

"Ye don' believe that, do ye?" Henry exclaimed incredulously.

"He said… She never did explain how she killed Frederic."

"Oh. That." Henry was silent for a while, then,

"I dunno 'ow she did it. Some'ow, she got that sword. I dunno."

"She didn't have it in the room?" Dominic looked up curiously.

"No. Not before. She got it some'ow."

"You won't tell me how?"

"I don' know! I wasn' there. I'm jus' sayin' wot them maids said to me!" he defended himself.

Dominic was not at all eager for a fight, but he felt that Henry knew more than he was saying. Right now was not the time for it.

"They let you in?"

Henry grinned sheepishly.

"I sneaked in…"

"How?"

"Well, ye know, I wotched you and Emms come in and out. I noticed things..."

Suddenly, another thought struck Dominic.

"My brother!"

"I think 'e's downstairs."

"I have to see him. I don't remember coming here last night…" he soliloquized. He rushed to the door, opened it, and, without dressing, wearing nothing but his robe, rushed down the familiar stairs to Edward's room.

There, he discovered, not his dear Ned, but a stranger, pale-faced and soaked with the flush of fever.

A well-dressed woman, whose hair was disheveled, stood over him, patting his brow with a handkerchief, ignoring the fact that she was also rather sickly-looking and crying silent tears, as well.

"Mother!"

The woman turned to look upon her elder son, who opened his arms to embrace her.

"Oh, Dominic!"

"Mother, how is he?" Dominic asked frantically, searching her face for some evidence of hope. He found none.

"He is… dying, Dominic!"

"I don't understand, Mother. He was always so strong…?"

"We are all susceptible to illness, dearest. But…"

She looked at him, staring into his eyes in a way that made him shiver. Emma was good at startling people with a similar stare. While most made a polite eye contact, she went for a complete lock of gazes, something that often frightened most people. Emma declared that these individuals had something to hide and that is why they shifted about so uncomfortably.

"Where is Emma?" the Queen finally asked.

"But… did nobody say anything?" he wondered aloud. Then,

"How did I come to be here?" he demanded.

"The good duke of Forsythe was kind enough to bring you by last night. I did find it strange that Emma did not accompany you. Have you lost your wife already?" she half-teased.

"Mother…" he paused, nervously, wondering what he was going to say. He could not voice his suspicions. The Duke knew he might try; the Duke held the trigger to Emma's temple and at a command from him, she was doomed. Even the slightest suspicion against him raised by Dominic could end Emma's life.

"She was taken ill last night," he finally spoke, deciding on his answer. "It was agreed that the air of Italy might do her some good."

"Heavens, Dominic, you shipped her off to the Continent alone? You have been wed but six months!"

"I know it, Mother, but—"

Here, Dominic was interrupted by a moan that escaped from the young prince's slightly parted lips.

"Darling!" the Queen murmured, rushing to her other son's assistance. He did not wake, however. He only shivered and stirred slightly.

"How long has he been like this?" Dominic asked, his mouth set.

"Only two days. But it has gotten so terrible so quickly that… I fear that…"

She could not continue. Her emotions got the better of her and she collapsed onto a nearby chair, weeping softly.

"What about Father?" Dominic asked.

"He…" she began, clearing her throat of the sobs which threatened to populate it. "He is distraught, but far too busy to sit by the sickbed all day and night, as I do."

"I will assist you in this," Dominic announced, clenching his jaw.

"No, love, you must go with Emma to Italy."

"I… I cannot."

"Why in the world not?"

"Sh-she wanted to go alone."

His mother simply looked incredulous.

"And you simply let her go off on her own, unaccompanied?"

"The steward of the Duke accompanies her," Dominic said, lying by omission. After all, the steward had been the one to shove her into the carriage last night.

The Queen continued to look skeptical, but was too weary to argue at this time.

Emma's disappearance was not explained. Those at the ball had all been rather fond of her, so they chose to omit the harsh details of her extradition from conversation and gossip. Rather, the mild story that was passed along was that the Lady de Winter had fallen ill upon learning that her brother-in-law was unwell and had chosen to leave the country at such a time of turmoil.

As night crept over the day which saw Dominic again in his house, he was summoned to speak with his father, the king.

"Your Majesty," Dominic whispered, stepping into the study softly and sweeping a deep bow.

"Dominic," the king answered, inclining his head. As Dominic stepped forward, he realized that he had never seen his father looking so weary.

"The… the physicians tell me he will not live the night."

Dominic was silent. How could one respond to something like that?

"I know what happened with Emma at the Duke's ball. For that reason, I refrain from restoring you as heir."

The King looked up at his son, who heaved a sigh, half-relief, half-misery.

"Don't look upon it like that, Dominic! For Heaven's sakes, I still live! And, furthermore, I am not yet old!"

Dominic could not deny that this was true.

"Listen to me. If all should fall through, you alone will be left to repair it."

"W-what?" Dominic asked, terrified of the implications of this sentence.

"The Kingdom. I do not wish to see it in pieces, handed over to a tyrant who will do with it as he pleases!"

"Father, I… How?"

"That will be up to you."

They did not have much longer for conversation, however, for there was a great stirring upstairs. The ceiling of the study was littered with the scattered footsteps of all the residents of the palace. A great shout was given.

Dominic and the King both looked towards the door, knowing what news was to be expected.

A maid, one of the scullery maids, was the first to rush into the study. Dominic could not believe the facial expression that she wore.

She paused to gasp for breath briefly, then proclaimed,

"The prince shall live!"

To attempt to describe the reactions of Dominic and his father to this news would be the attempt of describing the feelings of the recipient of a miracle. Disbelief, quickly followed by joy and the need to ensure the fact, filled up both men. They quickly dashed for Edward's room.

In truth, the young boy was wide-awake and looked as if he had never been sick for a day in his entire life. His cheeks were rosy and his skin was cool. He felt no head-aches, no chills of any sort. The doctors proclaimed it to be a miracle.

His mother had been asleep at the bedside, when she was woken by his enquiries of why she was weeping. It was as if he had never been ill to begin with!

The source of this mysterious cure was unknown. Ned remembered nothing, nor understood how the illness came about to begin with.

The very next day, Dominic pressed him for something, anything.

"Can you not say whether it was something you ate or drank?"

"I wasn't poisoned, Dom!" he laughed. Suddenly, he became very serious and dropped his voice.

"Dom… she saved me."

"Whom do you mean?" Dominic enquired, his eyes narrowing.

"Lady de Winter, your wife, Miss Emma," he said, his voice quite clear, his tone very serious.

"What do you mean?"

"I remember waking up, Dom. That I remember. I didn't tell anybody. I didn't think they would believe. But you will, won't you, Dom?"

"Go on," he whispered hoarsely.

"She came to me, you see. She said to me I had to wake up. Then she kissed me on the cheek. Just so," he indicated. "And then I woke up and saw Mama with tears on her cheeks."

Dominic sat speechless.

"You're certain it was Emma?"

"Oh, yes."

"Then, how…?"

But Dominic would never finish this question, nor would Ned be able to answer it. For just at that moment, the door burst open. A harried-looking messenger ran up to Dominic and nervously handed him a letter.

It was addressed to him, at the palace, and was written in a completely unfamiliar hand. In fact, it was rather crude.

Ned watched his brother unseal the letter and slip it open. He then saw Dominic scan through the letter and let it slip from his fingers. As if in a trance, the elder brother sank to the ground. Before he went to help him up, Ned discerned only the words "…lost in the storm…" amidst the other scrawled phrases.

A/N: Terrible, but it makes for something so truly powerful! I got chills just writing it and thinking about their facial expressions!

Please review and I will answer every single signed review that allows messaging. I figured this would be a neater way to respond to all of my readers. Also, it lets me show that I care about every one of you!

Many thanks, I love you all, review often!

-Titania


	4. A Loss and A Mystery

The messenger, who knew he was carrying bad news, quickly departed, hoping to avoid the former prince's reaction.

Dominic was not to be moved from his kneeling position on the ground, no matter how much Ned prodded and pleaded. He had buried his head in his hands and was not moving.

Now thoroughly frightened, Ned reached for the offending letter and read it through.

_Your Lordship,_

_I write to inform you of ill tidings. Most tragically, your honourable lady wife was lost in the storm, along with most of our crew. Though we the survivors circled the area and made many attempts to find her, she was not discovered, nor was her body to be found. It grieves me terribly to deliver such a message to you, but let it be known that she rests in peace now._

_Sincerest regards,_

_Jacob Sanford, Captain of the H.M.S. Aurora._

Ned stared at the words that spelled the end of so much for them. His sister, his newly-acquired sister, was dead? How could it be? Only last week, he had…

The proximity of this death startled poor Edward, so he did what any child in a similar position would do: he began to cry. Great, fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he sobbed to think of the bright life that would never touch his own again. Deep down, he blamed himself for her death, as children are wont to do. 'Had she given her own life to save his?' his conscience tormented him.

Dominic roused upon hearing his brother's sobs, and he stood to comfort him.

"It will be all right," Dominic whispered fiercely, trying to calm himself as well. Ned quieted a bit under his brother's arm. After all, there was something comforting about being with an older, more understanding brother.

"Sh-she was so wonderful!" Ned whimpered.

Dominic felt something catch in his throat.

"It's not true, Ned. It can't be. Not my Emma. She couldn't have…"

"Dom, what's going to happen now? Are you going to come back and be prince again?" he asked, somewhat relieved that his brother would return, more so unhappy for the cause of this return.

"We'll see, Edward. I don't know yet."

Dominic did not know anything at that moment. He felt as though he was standing on a high plateau. Behind him was a past he could never return to, while before him stood a future that ended only with a precipice and a drop.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The entire castle, so recently rejoicing for the miraculous convalescence of the young prince, was again thrown into mourning for the not-yet-twenty widower.

Dominic, however, had no intention of actually acknowledging the fact that Emma was truly gone. How could she be?

He had met with the Captain who had written the letter and found him to be a cold man, who might just as easily have pitched his beloved overboard as he would let her get thrown into the sea by the storm. He affirmed, however, that the ship had taken on water and she was lost in the melee.

Only one good thing came of Lady de Winter's death: the Duke of Forsythe was sent to follow her. Dominic, seeing his chance, now that Emma was no longer alive and susceptible to harm at the hands of the Duke, took it upon himself to reveal him for what he was. Further investigation proved that the Duke had indeed poisoned the boy. As for Beatrice… she had provided him with the details and the idea in the first place. Both were sentenced to death by the same poison that had nearly claimed Prince Edward's life.

Poor Nicholas was left an orphan. Dominic had protested against the death of Beatrice, but her hand in the affair had been enough to condemn her, even with the pardon of both Dominic and Edward.

Dominic was left with once choice at that point: should he try to follow Emma to a watery grave, or should he raise this young boy without a family as his own? Though selfish, Dominic was not so self-absorbed that he would choose the former. Consequently, he adopted Nicholas.

The sorrow for both was terrible, but they had each other for comfort. Nicholas loved his Uncle Dom and was quite happy when he realized that he no longer had to act like a Duke's son.

And so, the promise of a life, not entirely joyous, but one worth living, glimmered for Dominic and Nicholas.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Why, Emma?" Dominic whispered, standing on the beach, staring out over the ocean. Two months had passed since the terrible news had reached him. He had left Nicholas alone for the morning while he went to honour his Emma's memory.

"It was all my fault…" he sighed pensively.

"Don't give yourself so much credit!" a voice responded.

Startled, Dominic turned to see a beautiful woman, dressed in flowing blue robes, standing behind him.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "What are you doing here?"

"Who I am is of little consequence. All that matters is that I can help you." Her voice was light, but not melodic. She smacked her lips at the ends of words and seemed to speak as though through a wad of molasses.

"I don't understand. Help me? In what way?"

"I can help you retrieve your precious wife," she said slowly, letting the import of the words sink in.

"My wife is--!" he began hotly, but was cut off.

"Dead? Hardly. You never believed it. No, Emma de Winter is not dead. She is very much alive and I happen to know where. Do you want me to help you?" Her eyes gleamed as she stared fixedly at him.

Dominic did not know what to think, but abandoned himself to the thought that if he were mad, at least Emma would be part of his hallucination.

"Please," he asked cordially. "If you know…"

"Oh, very well!" she crowed. "But for a price, Your Highness, for a price…"

A/N: Short, but important. I know it is not very drawn out and I would have like to put in more dialogue, but I wanted to get this out before I was too busy this week. (I have so many papers for classes!)

Sorry, the next update won't be for a while. At least until next week. However, I will try to update The Vengeful Curse sometime before then.

Thanks to all of my reviewers and readers. To the former: Keep at it! To the latter: Turn yourself into one of the former by leaving me a brief message about what you thought!

-Titania


	5. The Storm and the Rescue

The storm was terrible.

Emma was bundled up inside the small cabin, gripping the sides of her bed fiercely so as not to be tossed to the opposite wall. The previous day had been terrible. They had locked her in this small cabin and, although she had fought violently, no woman was capable of single-handedly overcoming 4 burly sailors.

She had beaten the door until her hands were bloody and riddled with splinters, yet this had produced no result. The sailors aboard the ship were terrified of her and the effect she might have upon their luck at sea. For this reason, she had gone two days now without food, for they refused to open the door, lest she slip out by clawing away at them.

As the evening progressed and she banged away harder, begging for only a little bit of food (She had water. It was kept in a small basin by her bed.), the storm had crept up upon them. They were halfway across the Channel at this point and far from any shore or inlet where they might find safe haven. Instead, the sailors prepared for the worst.

Emma now had no desire to get out of her room. As she thought of the crushing waves and biting rain, she hugged the threadbare coverlet to her. With her eyes closed, she pictured Dominic, trying desperately to get to her and fighting tooth and nail, just as she had fought to get to him. She did not want to imagine that he had given her up willingly. That was too terrible to even think about, so she refrained from considering this.

The storm was at its peak when her door burst open. The captain, a burly and unpleasant man, stumbled across the room to where she sat and forcibly grabbed her by the arm. His eyes were wild and frightened.

"You've brought this upon us!" he screeched in an accusatory manner.

"I haven't!" she cried, desperately trying to get out of his clutches, for she knew well what he intended to do with her.

"Don't try to escape this. It is the fate due to a monster such as yourself! To think, we agreed to take you on!" he retaliated, spitting in her face with each word.

"Please, no!" Emma screamed, seeing that she was ever so close to the rail which separated her from the seething mass that would swallow her up and never let her see light again.

"We'll be clear of this as soon as you are gone," he growled.

Her eyes went wide and she thought of one thing more. A pressing matter which had been on her mind. Would he spare her?

"Please!" she whimpered. "You do not kill only one soul!"

"That husband of yours?" the man snorted. "He will be well shot of you!"

With those words, he pitched her over the side. Her scream went unheard in the chaos of the storm and the captain staggered back, realizing that he had just killed a young woman. He did not regret it for long, however, since the storm quieted very quickly after she was gone.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Emma's last conscious thought as she fell was something she did not expect to consider.

"_Someone must save Edward…"_

Her body hit the water and she was out like a light, sinking deeper and deeper into the unforgiving waves.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She would never remember that day, or that night, or whatever it was. But it had happened and somebody remembered it.

She was floating on air. Or was it water? She was uncertain, but she was certain of her destination.

"Edward," she whispered to the sleeping boy. "Edward, you must wake up!"

"Why, Miss?" the boy asked. His cheeks looked flushed and he looked very ill.

"You must, darling! Wake up." She leaned in towards the boy and kissed him on the cheek. Somehow, she knew, she could give him life and drive the deadly poison from his body with this kiss. Somehow…

As she touched her lips to his cheek, she felt all the warmth of life leave her body. It was as if she was giving the boy her own life. Even knowing this, she did not pull away. Finally, she felt herself collapse. Even in dreams, consciousness was not to be hers.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Wake up! Wake up already!" a voice insisted, nudging at Emma's shoulder. She didn't want to listen, for she felt cold and waking up would make her even more cold.

"Wake up! Why won't you wake up?" the voice asked, almost frantically.

Ah, well, there would be no rest. Emma opened her eyes.

And saw the strangest thing she had ever seen.

"You're alive!" the young woman exclaimed.

Was she a woman? Surely, no women were quite so pale, nor had she ever seen such a beautiful woman. And, strangest of all, she was wearing next to nothing. A shawl around her shoulders like a green net, her blonde hair draped all around her.

"Am I?" Emma asked, lifting her head and getting nothing but a headache in exchange.

"Quite!" the woman exclaimed again, happily.

"Where am I? Who are you?" Emma suddenly asked, wondering why there was a denuded woman sitting in front of her, clapping her hands like a small child because she was awake.

"My name is Aurore," she said proudly, leaning over Emma a bit farther, as she still did not have the strength to sit up.

"Wha-?" Emma suddenly sat up. She had caught a glint of something golden and did not understand just what it was.

Sitting up, everything became simultaneously more clear and even more muddled. There, before her very eyes, sat (?) a mermaid, golden tail gleaming in the sunlight.

Emma's eyes went wide and she continued staring at the mermaid's tail, which flicked to and fro, albeit gracefully.

The mermaid's gaze followed Emma's and she realized why the other was staring.

"Have you never seen a mermaid before?" she asked curiously.

"I can't say that I have!" Emma replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

It didn't work.

"I saved your life," the mermaid crowed, proudly straightening.

"You did?"

"Oh, yes. In that storm? You fell in. I know humans can't breathe underwater, so I took you here."

"I didn't fall in," Emma scowled. "I was thrown in."

"That's terrible!" the mermaid exclaimed.

"Yes…" she said vaguely, as a thought entered her mind. "Aren't you supposed to keep out of sight of humans?"

"Most of them…" she said, a sly smile crossing her rosy lips.

"What, I don't qualify as 'most' humans?"

The mermaid was silent, for once. She didn't look in Emma's eye, but stared fixedly at a point just behind her shoulder.

"Aurore?" Emma finally asked.

"Yes?" she answered, looking up again.

"Where am I?"

"Oh. It's an island. I'm not sure what it is called, but no humans live here. It's very small."

"Am I near any land? Proper countries?"

The mermaid looked puzzled.

"A nation, with many people?"

She sat up, almost frightened.

"I don't go to those places. What if they should spot me?" she asked, alarmed.

"I've spotted you," Emma pointed out.

"No, you're different. There is a difference…" Again, she turned her head away.

"Please, Aurore, I must get back to England. How can I get back?"

"I don't know."

"Well, where did you find me?"

"In the sea," she answered simply.

"Where exactly in the sea?"

"How should I know that?" she giggled. "Nobody knows where exactly a place in the sea is. The water moves!"

Emma continued to look anxious, but noticed that she looked better than the mermaid, whose white complexion had become a faint pink in the heat of the sun.

"Do you need to go back in the water?" she asked, ever solicitous.

"Oh, yes! If you don't mind, that is," she added, as an afterthought.

"Why should I mind?" she wondered aloud.

The mermaid shrugged her shoulders and crawled back into the water, not too far from where she had been leaning over Emma.

"What am I supposed to do now?" Emma asked the figure bobbing in the waves.

"There is food and fresh water on this island. I don't know how else to help you," she confessed.

"Aurore!" Emma shouted desperately, for she saw the mermaid was retreating farther into the depths. "Wait! How do I get back?"

The mermaid shrugged again and dove into the water, her tail flicking the brine in all directions.

Emma could only stare at the retreating figure with horror. She was stranded on an island that was in no place she recognized. Her husband would think her dead by now. Her brother-in-law was still (she thought) dying of poison, while the madman and his wife were loose to wreak havoc.

Strange, she thought to herself. To exchange a death by drowning for a life as lonely and somber as death itself.

Suddenly, the thought which had prompted her final plea to the captain again struck her.

No, she wouldn't be alone. In a few months, she would have company…

A/N: As per a few requests, here is Emma's side! And look, a mermaid! Hurrah! Well, it's a bit more complicated than that, but you get the idea for now, I hope.

I sincerely apologise for the poor quality of the previous chapter. I intend to revise it as quickly as possible and to prevent so much from happening in such a short time! I am so sorry!

For now, much love to you all. Review, and I will answer you!

-Titania


	6. Life Anew

"A price?" Dominic asked hesitantly.

"Yes, dear Prince, a price," the woman said, hissing as she finished the sentence.

"I am not a prince any longer," Dominic replied, almost instinctively, not bothering to wonder why she would call him that.

"Oh?" the woman inquired. "Why not?"

"Becau- Can I get Emma back or not?" he finished, exasperated with himself for getting sidetracked at a time like this.

"Emma, of course…" the woman said softly.

"Well?" Dominic demanded, wondering what more there was.

"The price, love? There is the small matter of a fee which I wish to receive for my services to you."

"Any amount of money. Anything!"

"Are you certain about that?"

"Of course! All that is mine to give is yours, if only I can have my Emma by my side again!"

"Very well, my prince, since you offer me anything I should desire, I will accept as payment your firstborn child."

Dominic stood aghast.

"W-what?"

"A child you will never know in exchange for the wife you love so dearly. Is that a fair trade?" she said with an unpleasant grin.

"I... What kind of monster are you, that you would demand a child of me? Anything else! Any amount of money?" he pleaded.

"Only the child, and nothing more."

"I beg of you!"

"Do you want your wife back, or not?"

Dominic hung his head.

"I… I accept."

"Wonderful!" the woman exclaimed, smiling again.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Emma saw neither head nor tail of the mermaid again. Aurore had disappeared as abruptly as she had appeared, and Emma was left on her own.

The island truly was small and not at all conducive to a healthy atmosphere for a woman in her condition.

As she gathered and prepared her food, she wondered what her child would look like, whether it would be a boy or a girl, and even whether or not she would be able to care for it on her own. She did not dwell on the latter, for she hoped that she might be able to get off of this island very soon.

She was wrong.

Days passed and then weeks. She lost count of the time and only knew that she had been on this island for too long. She couldn't help but wonder whether she wouldn't have rather drowned that day, long ago.

These thoughts never went far, however, for she realized that she felt too strongly for the child inside her to give up quite so easily.

Then, one day, all of her praying and hoping yielded a result.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

She had gone to sleep early in the day and when she woke up, she found herself in a bed.

_A bed?_

She sat up, bewildered, and encountered the solicitous face of Dominic.

"Are you all right?" he demanded, reaching out to hold her head up.

"Dominic!" she nearly shouted.

"Yes, my love, you're home again," he said with a smile.

"But… how?"

"Never mind that now, you must tell me, what happened?"

"I… I was thrown overboard."

"THROWN?"

"Yes, the Captain dragged me out of the cabin and threw me in the water. Oh, Dominic!"

"How did you survive?" he marveled. He had seen what that storm had done on land, but could not begin to imagine what it would do over the water.

"I…" she began, then stopped herself. "You'll think me mad."

Dominic laughed.

"At this point, do you think anything could surprise me?"

Emma smiled.

"Probably not. Very well, I'll tell you. A mermaid saved me."

"…Come again?"

"A mermaid, Dominic. Golden hair and golden tail… A marvel, really! She took me to some God-forsaken island, nothing but ocean for leagues all around."

"Well… Wow."

"Yes, something like that," Emma said with a mild giggle.

"But that's just the thing. How have I come to be here?"

"I can't really say. I just… found you on the shore," he fibbed.

"Oh. How strange."

"Yes, but never mind that. Are you all right now?"

"More than that," she said, smiling slyly.

"What is it?" Dominic asked, realizing there was more to it than that.

"You are going to be a father soon, my love," she said, now grinning broadly.

This time, Dominic had nothing to say. Worry creased his brow and this did not escape Emma's notice.

"Well, aren't you happy?"

"Oh, yes. Yes!" he said, smiling at her, but not ceasing to worry. A certain pact he had recently made flew into his mind. Should he tell her…?

Emma nodded approvingly, then also looked worried.

"Your brother?"

"Edward? He is faring quite well!"

"How?" she mused.

"I meant to ask you that very question."

"But…"

"He claims that you saved him. That you came to him in his fever and told him to wake up."

"I would remember such a thing, don't you think so?"

Dominic sighed. "I don't know what to think anymore."

"Then the danger is past?" she asked, almost nervously.

"The Duke is dead, as is Beatrice."

"But Nicholas!" she exclaimed, horrified.

"Is now my ward. _Our_ ward," he corrected himself.

Emma continued to stare at him, her eyes wide.

"Tell me, how far along are you?" Dominic asked, his eyes drifting towards her stomach.

"A few months, I should think," she answered. "There are no calendars on abandoned islands."

Dominic looked at his brave and beautiful wife. What more could he ask for? Yes, she was worth the trade. He would do it again in a heartbeat.

The only problem was, Emma had no knowledge of this bargain.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

On that same shore where Dominic had stood that morning, calling to his lost wife, there now stood one solitary figure.

Her blue robes flowed around her in the wind and she kept a fixed gaze at the chateau on the hill.

"Not much longer now," she whispered.

A figure at her feet, mostly covered by the water that was beating against the sand, looked up at her and asked, "Have I done well?"

"Yes, Aurore. Thank you. Shall we go now?"

"Oh, yes, Milady."

"We'll return soon enough," the blue-clothed figure said, her words escaping in a hiss as she smacked her lips.

The one called Aurore smiled.

"Not much longer," she whispered.

A/N: What do you think? I really hope you are enjoying it thus far. I know what is happening from here on out, so it is a matter of writing it. If I receive at least ten reviews, I will try to update again. I am really very busy, so give me some encouragement!

Much love, thanks to all,

-Titania


	7. The Witch and the Mermaid

"Aunt Emma!" the little boy exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock.

"Nicholas, darling," she said, coming towards him with arms open for an embrace. He remained fixed where he was.

"But… but Uncle Dom said you were…"

"Hush! I know it, dear boy, but I was only away for a long time," she said placatingly.

"And now you're going to stay?" he asked with a tremor in his voice, still unsure.

"Yes, dear, I am most certainly going to stay!" she said, at which he rushed into her arms and gave her a fierce embrace.

"Uncle Dom was so sad without you," the little boy whispered.

"I know it, love," she responded in his ear. "That is why I came back, you see? I am going to stay this time!"

Nicholas pulled away and smiled broadly at his guardian. She looked at his face with all of the love of a mother admiring her child.

Dominic sighed happily as he watched the two of them. Now his life could be complete, he thought to himself.

_Can it?_ A distant thought caught at this happy dream.

No! He would not let that monster destroy his life and that of his child. When the time came… He would think of something, surely!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"What was it like?" Dominic asked her, a day not too far from when she had first come.

"The island? It was lonely."

"Is that it? Then, tell me about the mermaid."

"What's to tell? She had a tail, Dominic. That was her redeeming quality," Emma said, almost bitterly.

"I take it you don't hold your rescuer in high esteem?" Dominic said with a slight smile.

"Rescued? Ha! Marooned, more like."

"It wasn't her fault. Where was she going to take you? She was afraid of being spotted."

"Apparently not by me!"

"Well," Dominic began, then stopped, realizing he had no argument.

"She said…" Emma started to speak with a frown, "She said that I was special somehow."

"Special?" Dominic looked up, surprised.

"Yes. I don't know what she meant, exactly, but she said that she didn't mind my seeing her."

Emma finished and bit her lip, wondering. Then, she remembered something.

"Dominic, how did I get off of that island?"

"I already told you, I found you on the beach. I have no idea how you managed to get off of it."

Emma looked at him and nodded, convincing herself that he truly had no idea how it had happened.

"Now you must tell me something," Dominic said, interrupting her thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"Where did you get that sword from?"

"Sword?" she said with complete bewilderment.

"The one you used to kill Frederick."

"Dominic, what should that matt—"

"Tell me, please. You don't understand, the things people have been saying…"

"People will always say things!" she exclaimed defensively.

"But, you must calm me, love. Tell me those things aren't true," he pleaded.

"I can't," she said flatly.

"But, why not?"

"Oh, darling, why do you think I killed him? Why am I made to answer these questions?" she exclaimed. This very thought had been pressing upon her, until she felt she could think of it no more. Would this family trait affect her child? Would she further be seen as a…

"Which?"

Emma looked up, startled.

"W-what?"

"Which questions?" Dominic said, his eyes boring into her own.

"Dominic, there are so many things you don't and can't understand about me."

"I am your husband, Emma, and whether you like it or not, I am going to be told these things you are hiding from me," he said stonily.

"He was a threat, Dominic. More than you ever thought him to be."

"Oh?" Now he was intrigued.

"He… he was a wizard, Dominic."

There was silence, until,

"A what?" Dominic exclaimed, incredulously.

"A wizard. I don't know how, but he tapped into some reserve of power and… My God, if he had loved, I can't begin to imagine the destruction he would have caused!"

"Tapped into power?"

"Something in his blood, in _our_ blood." She would not say more. Dominic was left to understand that she, also, might possess not a small amount of power.

"And you, also…" Dominic broke off, unable to say more.

"I did it to defend myself!" she cried. "What would you have done? He was about to kill me! And I had a chance. My only chance. I broke free of the magical bonds with which he held me and somehow, though I do not know how, I got that sword."

Dominic swallowed and continued to stare fixedly at her.

"Th-then why couldn't you have saved yourself from the island?"

"Do you think I have any control over these so-called powers?" she demanded. "I tried! Heaven knows I tried! But…"

Dominic was very quiet, but now he understood more. He was thinking about it all. How strange it was, how strange…

"That's how you saved Edward…"

"I suppose, though I do not remember that."

"You saved his life and you saved the kingdom from that monstrous usurper. What a wife I have!" he said loudly, beaming as he looked at her.

Emma was still somewhat timid. "You aren't angry with me?"

"Angry? Why should I be angry? You brilliant, brilliant girl!" he proclaimed, coming over to her and lifting her in the air.

She laughed, relieved and comforted by these proceedings.

Later that night, they spoke together.

"Nobody must ever know," she told Dominic.

"No, I won't tell a soul," he swore.

"Good, else I'll hex you!" she joked.

Dominic looked severe.

"Don't make jokes of such serious matters!"

"I'm sorry, love, I thought…"

"No, it's just that… if you don't need to use these powers, then they shouldn't be mentioned," he finished with a decisive nod.

"Let's not talk about this anymore. I'm tired." With that, she rolled over on her side in the bed and closed her eyes.

Dominic remained where he was, eyes open, staring at the darkness above him.

_All is not lost._ His thoughts were swimming with one idea. _If she can rescue herself and her brother, surely she won't let her own child be lost to a monster._

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

At that moment, another individual was swimming, quite literally and also with thoughts.

Aurore was elated to have the day to herself. Soon, it would all be over. She swam closer to the shore and stared at the fishermen gathering in their nets for the night.

Making sure to keep her tail out of sight, she drifted closer, not daring to come too far, since a blond girl, with or without a tail, would not go unnoticed in these waters.

She knew this shore well. She had not told the entire truth to Emma when she said she avoided all humans entirely. She looked longingly towards the farther ends of the sand. There, a lady, dressed beautifully, was strolling down the beach with a gentlemen.

Aurore gazed sadly at her own attire, which was a sad little woven shawl. She dared not look at her tail. Oh, but she was ashamed of it! What she wouldn't give for a pair of pretty white legs, forever swathed with silk and velvet, muslin in the summer.

A tear trickled down her cheek and fell into the water, causing a slight ripple.

"Have you ever seen such a beautiful child?" he had exclaimed. "None exists to rival this one!" He was proud, but he was boastful. It was wrong to say what he did. She knew that now.

She looked up at the beach again and then drifted into the deeper water, where she could dive in without causing a ruckus.

"Soon, it will be over. Oh, so soon!"

A/N: Well, people seemed to like the mermaid factor, so I added some more of it in! I am so grateful to my reviewers and readers! I will be completely dead in French class tomorrow, but as long as you enjoy, it is all worth it! Please let me know what you think, that is all I ask of you!

-Titania


	8. A Child's Demand

A month passed and Dominic finally allowed Emma to venture outside of the sea-side city where their chateau was located. He had deemed her well enough for travel.

"I was fine!" she scolded Dominic. "I was well enough for travel since the day I came back!"

"No, you weren't," he said gently, laying a hand on her lap.

"If anything, I am in a far more tender condition now."

"If anything, you are far more irritated at anything I do lately than ever before!" he retaliated.

"You're so childish, do you know that?" she asked, crossing her arms. "What kind of example are you setting for Nicholas?"

The little boy grinned and looked at his uncle.

Dominic winked at him.

"An excellent one, my dear."

"Aren't you excited, Nicky, dear?" she asked the child.

"To see Ned?"

"No, love, to meet your new cousin!"

Dominic hastily turned to look out of the window of the carriage.

"Oh, very, Aunt Emma! When is he coming?"

"Or she," she corrected him. "A few months. Only five months more!"

"That soon?" Dominic broke in, looking worried.

"Yes, love, I'm four months along," she said gently, perplexed about his anxiety.

"Oh." He turned his gaze back towards the window.

Shaking her head in confusion, she turned back to her nephew.

"He or she will have an older brother in you, yes?"

"Yes'm!" he exclaimed, happy to imagine himself giving orders to someone as young as himself.

As time had passed, Nicholas was really very glad that he was in the charge of his uncle and aunt. They loved him very well and seemed to enjoy the pleasure of his company. His own parents had not cared much to have him around and he had been tossed from one nanny to another.

He especially loved his aunt Emma, whose kind smile and pretty face always made him feel better, no matter what.

"I'm so glad you're not losted!" he said to her suddenly.

"What, love?"

"Well, when you were losted, I didn't know you. Now I know you! And I like you very much."

"Oh! Thank you very much for that. I'm also glad that I am not lost anymore."

"Don't ever leave me again, Aunt Emma, alright?" he demanded of her.

"Never again, darling. I'm not going anywhere," she said, embracing the little boy.

"We're here!" Dominic proclaimed as the carriage came to a standstill.

"Come on, let's go see Ned!" Emma said with a smile, disengaging herself from Nicholas's arms.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

They were greeted with much fanfare. While most did not understand the mysterious reappearance of the Lady de Winter, they did not bother to concern themselves much with the affair, since their lord was so happy to be with her again.

"Emma!" a child's voice shouted and the sound of running footsteps followed.

"Your Highness," Emma replied, sweeping an elegant curtsy.

"There's no need for that," Edward replied, embarrassed, digging his toe into the ground and looking at the floor.

"I agree," Emma said and went to hug him fiercely.

"You've no idea what it did to Dominic," Edward said to her later that night, over dinner. "He wasn't himself any more. I've never seen anyone quite so ready to jump off of a cliff."

"It was a terrible time for all of us," Emma agreed.

"But how did you survive all of that time?" Ned pressed.

"I was adrift for some time and found by merchant sailors. They were headed in the opposite direction, but after they concluded their business, they took me back to England," Emma lied confidently. This was the story she and Dominic had agreed upon, partly because they had no idea how to explain the island story, partly because neither of them (Emma thought) knew how she had gotten back.

"Well, I have to speak with you, Emma," Ned said quietly.

"Oh?"

"Yes, in private."

"Don't tell Dominic… He'll get jealous!"

"It's not a joke, Emma. I must ask you something."

Emma, remembering what Dominic had told her about Ned's dream, understood the reason behind this request.

"Very well, dear, after dinner," she whispered back to him.

"To my resurrected daughter-in-law!" the King boomed from the head of the table, raising his glass in her direction and beaming at her.

Everyone answered the toast and soon all were drinking to her health and the health of the King's grandchild. The Queen was absolutely beside herself with joy. The perfect woman for her son had disappeared and was now returned to them, miraculously. For all of the bad things that had happened, the queen considered, they now appreciated everything they had so much more.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Later that evening, as everyone was retiring for the night, Emma was holding council with her ten-year-old brother and prince.

"Now, what was it that you wanted to speak with me about."

"Emma… you saved my life!" he blurted out without much introduction.

"Ned, I was miles away when that happened," she said, looking at him.

"No, Emma, I saw what I saw. You came to me and you told me to wake up. You kissed me on the cheek and then I woke up! Really! Why don't you believe me?"

"Because I don't remember ever coming to the castle between when I learned that you were sick and now."

"I don't believe you. I know that you saved me!"

"Edward—"

"You can say what you like, but I know you did save me. I know a lot more than most people think!" he said vehemently, as if trying desperately to get his point across.

"What are you trying to say, Ned?" she asked, honestly wondering what difference it made, whether or not she had saved him. She had not remembered doing such a thing, but knowing what she knew, it was quite possible.

"I don't know, Emma," he said, frustrated with himself, for lack of a better answer.

"Then, I don't understand."

"I just wanted you to know…" he looked at her steadily, his gaze unflinching. It was eerie for a child of so few years. "I… Thank you, sister."

Emma looked at the boy and thought of the child she herself would be raising soon, of the child she was currently raising. If their lives would depend on his qualities as a King, then she had no doubt they would be well taken-care of.

"You're welcome," she whispered, only loudly enough for him to hear.

Edward stared at her for a while, then drew his gaze away, comprehending the meaning of something so simple.

Emma said nothing, but quietly rose and left the room. There would be later days and better times. For now, she was tired and wanted to sleep. Her health was no longer her own. Another depended upon her now.

A/N: Short (ish), but quite poignant, I think. Plus, I had requests for people wanting to see more of Nicholas. Here he is! I am sorry I have not been directly responding to my reviewers, but I plan to get around to that very soon! I am most grateful to all of you for your wonderful comments!

-Titania


	9. Two If By Sea

Disclaimer: I really should add this: Nothing in Greek mythology belongs to me. That belongs to… the Greeks, I guess? Hurrah for Aristotle and Socrates! Actually, just Socrates. He never wrote anything complicated, causing yours truly to stay up late reading philosophy when she should be completing this story… My reasons for this new disclaimer will become abundantly clear later!

Emma's screams filled the rather large room and echoed well into the hallway. Dominic was pacing outside, unsure of what to do, uncertain of what was going to happen now. He wanted to be with her, but the midwife had scolded him and shooed him out of the room, demanding that he leave his wife alone for the time being.

Her screaming was grating on his already-thin nerves. He wanted to be in there with her, helping her, comforting her… Anything was better than this!

Finally, the screams stopped, and a different sort of cry was heard.

"God!" exclaimed Dominic, rushing for the door.

He stood by it, waiting, tapping his foot anxiously. Finally, the door opened a crack and the midwife appeared carrying a small bundle.

"A fine young boy," she said proudly.

Dominic gaped at the bundle being handed over to him and then rushed to hold the fragile creature gently.

"My son," he whispered, staring down at the infant's face, framed by dark black locks.

"Enchanting, ssssimply enchanting," a voice hissed behind him.

There, behind him, stood the woman of the blue robes. She was smiling maliciously, and her whole face seemed consumed by a zeal, which lit up when she looked at the child. Dominic thought she looked rather like a lioness who, having spotted her prey, is simply waiting for the opportunity to pounce.

"No!" Dominic shouted, drawing his child closer to himself.

"I would have thought that a prince would be a good sport about a bargain. We had a deal…"

"It's a monstrous deal!" he retaliated. "What could you gain by the death of my child?"

"Death? Did I ever mention death? That is not my intention at all." She was all wide-eyed innocence.

"Then.. then what do you want with him?"

She laughed harshly.

"The less you know about that, the better!"

Suddenly, a thought came to him. He turned to go to Emma, and realized that the midwife was standing right behind him, looking at the child. Fixedly looking at the child.

He turned to face the cause of his woe.

"What have you done?" he demanded.

"A temporary time-freeze. Most simple."

"Undo it!"

"My, my, such authoritative tones?"

"Please!" he pleaded.

"It will undo itself soon enough. Don't worry, I will make it so that nobody remembers that there was a child," she said, feigning concern for his plight.

"_What!"_

Needless to say, it was short of comforting.

"Not this child, anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"You'll see."

"How dare you do this to my family?"

"I dare. And furthermore, if you thought I would fall for one minute for the tricks you were planning to play upon me, you must believe me to be a greater fool than I am!"

"I don't know what you mean," he lied, swallowing hard.

"Oh, no? You weren't planning to have your wife destroy me with her 'powers'?" she asked, bemused at the shocked expression on his face. When he said nothing, she continued.

"Next time, be sure to let her in on the plan before she has no chance to do anything!" she said, laughing at him. Mocking him.

"I won't let you take him!"

"Yes, you will, you must!" she laughed, the pitch of her laugh growing higher and higher.

"Aurore will be so pleased…" the monstrous woman said slyly.

_Aurore? Where have I heard that…?_

He realized that he was unable to move and she was taking his son from him. He tried to cry out, for help, for anything, but his voice caught in his throat.

"Go ahead, try to tell someone once I leave. I think that you'll find they will think you mad."

His voice had returned, though he could not move otherwise.

"Of course they won't! They will wonder where the child has gone!" he argued.

"No, they won't," the woman said confidently. "I assure you, they won't."

Dominic did not know what to do. He wanted nothing more than to throw himself upon her and tear her to pieces.

"I will let you remember this boy, where nobody else will. Perhaps it will remind you of the oft-high cost of a bargain."

She moved to leave and he was still immobile.

"Please!" he begged, "Please leave him! What do you want with him?"

"Ah, dear prince, that is a matter that does not concern you in any way."

Just as he was about to protest, he found that she had disappeared in a twinkling, taking his first-born son with her.

He made a dash towards where she had been, but was startled by the renewed sound of screams.

He turned to see the midwife, perplexed, running into the chamber where his wife was lying.

For the second time, the screaming stopped, and a child's cry was heard.

"What?" Dominic whispered.

"A girl! A healthy, beautiful girl!" he heard the midwife's exclamations.

Dominic did not know what to think. The sorceress or whatever she was had known this. She had known everything, somehow…

"Sire?" The midwife stood confused, holding out the small girl to Dominic. He snapped to attention and took the greatest care in bringing his daughter into his arms.

"She's very beautiful. She will be as fair as her mother," he said, smiling sadly.

"Yes, sire," the midwife answered, confused about why he should look that way at his firstborn child.

"Dominic…" a weak voice called from the room which until now had been forbidden.

"Emma!" he said, his voice almost shaking. He walked slowly into the room, taking care not to have a shaky step that might disturb the precious gift in his hands.

"Is she not beautiful?" Emma said proudly, taking her daughter into her arms.

"She is… amazing," he said, leaning in to kiss first Emma, then the child. He ran his fingers through her damp hair, as she lay back on her pillow, holding the child to her breast.

"I hope you are not disappointed," she said softly.

"Hmm?" He was distracted.

"I know you wanted a son as your firstborn. But we will have others, I am certain. And there is Nicholas…" her speech faded, as she closed her eyes, weary from the efforts of labour.

Dominic had to choke back a sob as she said this. His mind was racing…

Twins! Such a simple solution to her problem of explaining away a child's disappearance. And if she had erased the memory of the first birth… Yes, that was it. But, then, his son was truly lost. He would never see his boy again.

Now he could never tell Emma about what had happened that morning he had come out to mourn her. Now he could never tell her how he had erred and lost their child to a monster. But that didn't mean he himself wouldn't try to find him and get him back... But not now. Now, he had to comfort his darling, to take care of the child he had with him. He was almost certain the sorceress would do nothing to his boy. She herself had admitted she had no reason to. For now… For now, he must leave well enough alone. There was no hope in any of this now.

"Theresa," Emma suddenly whispered.

"Darling?"

"We shall call her Theresa," Emma said with a happy sigh, closing her eyes again and letting her lips curve into a faint, weary smile.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sylphide stood at the water's edge, holding the bundle of blankets which contained the newborn son of the Lord and Lady de Winter. Only he would not know this last fact for many years to come.

"Did I keep my promise, Aurore?" she asked haughtily.

The golden figure in the water shook her head fervently, curls bouncing over the water.

"I am glad. His name will be Anthony. Do you like that, Aurore?"

The mermaid whispered, "Yes," her eyes shining with a bright hope.

"I know you are hoping never to see him or me again. I cannot say whether or not you will…"

Aurore looked down and bit her lip. The dark shadows of the grotto played on her face, but her hair and tail seemed to give off a light of their own. They were far from the English coast where the chateau of the Lord and Lady de Winter stood.

"What is it?"

"Perhaps… He should be with his family?"

She instantly regretted these words as soon as she said them.

"Are you suggesting I am not his family?" Sylphide hissed, her voice dangerously low.

"N-no, milady."

"After all I have done for you, you do not see me as your family?" she demanded, glaring at the offending girl.

"Not at all! I mean…"

Sylphide laughed.

"Always thinking of yourself, eh? Even now, all you care about is whether or not I let you return to the place you once called home. Do you think they still want you?"

Aurore looked away from the sorceress, as her eyes began to fill with tears.

"Ah, some doubts, I see?" the cruel woman pressed. "Well, I release you of your bonds. You may go home. Now, go!"

"B-but…"

"What is it now?" the vile creature demanded.

Aurore said nothing, but continually glanced at the tail trailing behind her in the water.

"Ah! So, you don't think your family would want you back like this? I think I've made you so much better!" she gloated.

"Milady, I…"

"You are ungrateful for my gift. I see ten years of servitude have left no impression upon you."

"No, it's only that I…"

"Don't try charming me now, you stupid girl. I know what you want. I'm not a fool."

"I never meant to imply that…"

"Silence! Your voice grates upon my nerves."

Aurore closed her mouth and looked down into the water again.

"Haven't I made you so much more beautiful?" Sylphide began again.

Aurore did nothing.

"Look how you shine, like a pretty new trinket! What many women would not do for such lovely golden hair."

The mermaid kept her mouth shut. She knew that the monster was teasing her, waiting for a reaction to give her an excuse to… it was too horrible to think about. But it had happened before, when she was still young.

"And what economy! No need for expensive Parisian milliners' services, no need for the finest cobblers of the city to make you silk and fur-lined shoes." She waited, but Aurore did not respond. She was not going to ruin everything now. Not now, when she was so close.

"I have saved you from the greatest of pains… that of heartbreak. What man could love you as you are now?" Here, Aurore shook fiercely. "Yes, I have saved you from that pain, and you are not even grateful! What a child!"

"I only wish to go home…" Aurore finally whispered.

"I gave you permission to leave," Sylphide said with a wicked smile.

The dam broke.

"B-but how am I s-supposed to c-come h-home with a t-t-tail?" she wailed, her tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

"Is that what was troubling you, girl?" She laughed aloud. "You might have mentioned it in the first place.

Aurore was trembling, but her sobs were silent.

"Well, very well. But, remember, you must speak of these ten years to no one. Not a single detail may escape your lips. I think you will find that if you try, you will discover yourself to have nothing to say on the subject." Sylphide laughed at her private joke.

"Try once, and your voice will eventually return. Try twice, and it shall take longer. Try three times, and you will learn what it is to cross me. For if you try to speak of all of this three times, your voice will never return to you and you shall remain forever a mute…"

Aurore nodded, agreeing to the conditions. What need or what desire would she have to recount these loathsome years?

"Have they been so loathsome?" the sorceress asked.

She said nothing, but cursed herself mentally, for having forgotten the creature could read minds as easily as others read books.

"You were a girl of sixteen when you left," Sylphide said, staring at Aurore. "Ten years have passed, but you have not aged. To throw those ten years upon you would kill you. I have no desire to do that. Therefore, I leave you with your youth, though eventually you will grow old, as all humans do. Explain it away as you will, but remember my conditions."

Aurore was gasping now, anxious to be free, anxious to be out of this awful grotto, free from the tempestuous and indifferent ocean's bondage.

"Here," Sylphide said, bending over and handing the girl something rotten-looking in a small glass vial. "That is your salvation," she said, in answer to the girl's confused expression. "Swim to your native shore and drink this when you are close to land. Take care, though, you are not too far out, for you will find yourself having some difficulty swimming to land with legs." A pause. "You are certain you don't wish to remain this way?"

Aurore's eyes widened and she nearly shouted, "Yes!"

Sylphide looked at her strangely.

"Very well. But if you ever do wish to return, simply call upon me and I will change you back. Remember this, though, child. I will give you no second antidote."

The mermaid nodded fiercely again, wondering what sort of circumstances should ever drive her back to this hated state of being. Impossible! Never again!

"Now will you leave? My son and I have serious matters to discuss."

Aurore did not need a second cue and she dove under the water, without so much as a farewell.

The splash of water on the infant's face caused him to coo softly, almost happily, if there is such a thing for newborns.

"You'll like it more than she did, Anthony," Sylphide said, concentrating on the bright blue eyes of the child. _Emma's eyes_.

"Quite perfect," she said, her smile revealing her perfect teeth. "They all played into it. Fools!" Had a ship passed the outside of the grotto, the men aboard would have heard the woman's laughter.

The sea was very silent that day. The sailors declared that never had there been such a day for travel, while the fisherman attested to the fact that never before had the waters yielded such a bounty.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Aurore was swimming quickly, faster than ever before. Her tail whipped the water behind her and her hair trailed like so much gold seaweed.

She knew where she was going, just the spot. The fishermen would leave soon and she would be alone.

"I'm free!" she proclaimed to the fish she passed and the water itself, which seemed to slap her resentfully. She didn't care. Soon, she would never have to care again; soon, she would be immersed in water only to take a fragrant bath in a porcelain tub.

She squealed in excitement, her joy practically radiating. She was finally free from the sorceress's clutches. Yes, there were conditions to her freedom. But she saw no reason as to why she should ever even think about the terrible experience.

Aurore spotted the shore and saw that the fishermen had already gone in. Cautiously, she swam closer to the shore, closer than she had been in years. Finally, she pulled herself onto the beach and took the stopper from the vial.

She frowned at the unpleasant appearance of the concoction, but she did not let this stop her from drinking it. As soon as she did, she regretted it and began to choke. The potion was burning her. It started in her mouth and radiated all through her body. She thought vaguely whether or not Sylphide had tricked her and given her poison instead.

The pain increased and she wanted to scream, but instead bit her lip, afraid to draw attention to herself. She tasted the bitter copper of blood in her mouth and tried to focus on that instead of on the terrible pain devouring her body.

Finally, she felt a terrible sensation, as though somebody had run a knife all down her tail and looked to see that the scales had fallen and disappeared from her tail, and she now had a pair of legs. Legs!

Still shaking, she turned over and lay still on the sand. Exhausted and still in pain, she collapsed, completely nude. Her last thought before she let unconsciousness claim her was about the lovely young woman she had saved many months ago and what a terrible fate she had brought upon her by doing so…

A/N: A very long chapter, simply because it had to be written and because I will have absolutely no time for updates in this next week. I hope this will satisfy you until the next time I have the opportunity to write the next chapter. As you can see, I have no intention of dropping this story. I think it is absolutely wonderful and I love to write it.

Now you can see where I got the title, right? Please, to all of those who reviewed, I apologise that I won't be able to address you directly anytime soon. Don't let that deter you from letting me know what you thought! I will try, as soon as I have more time! You make me want to write this!

Much love and exhilaration,

-Titania

P.S. Nicholas wants you to review.

Nicholas: No, I don't.

Titania: Don't argue!

Nicholas: UNCLE DOM!

Titania: Ok, ok, just don't disturb him, he's busy!

Nicholas::Grins:


	10. Tess and Tony

"Tessie!" a voice called from inside the window, which was wide open on the sunny day. "Tessie, please, come back inside!"

A girl's light giggle was heard, just as a flash of pink muslin flew past the source of the voice.

Emma sighed, allowing herself a smile, but quickly disposing of it to look stern.

"Tess! Come back here immediately!" Her voice was not nearly stern enough, however, for the called-for child merely made a face and ran on even faster.

"Don't make me call Papa," Emma warned, looking up to see the reaction.

Tessie immediately stood stock-still and lifted her head to look at her mother.

At the age of 27, Emma was hardly any less beautiful than she had been ten years ago. Her face was just as bright, her eyes had not lost their sparkle, and her smile was almost always present.

"You wouldn't," the little girl whispered, narrowing her eyes.

"Oh? Do you think so? Don't tempt me, Tess," she warned, wagging a finger at her truant daughter.

"Mummy, I just want to go play on the beach," she whined.

"Well, ask Nicholas if he'll take you. I don't want you going alone."

"But Mum!" another voice exclaimed. This was the voice of a certain teenager, who had come around from the other side of the garden and was now standing, quite cross, arms folded across his chest, looking darkly towards the window.

"Please, Nicholas?" Emma pleaded. "Just for an hour. It won't hurt you to spend some time with your sister!"

"How do you know?" he grumbled.

Emma grinned. To listen to him complain! What a task! Teenagers! Not too long ago, she might have been the same. Of course, at his age, any of her complaints would have been discarded and she would have been whipped, to boot.

As the silence continued, Tessie could no longer contain herself and exclaimed,

"Well, are we going or not?"

"I don't want to," Nicholas said moodily.

"Nicky…" Emma began, her tone that of a simpering girl.

"I hate that name," he said by way of response.

"Well, what is it you want to do?" she asked, frustrated.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? At all?"

"Maybe I'll go hunting…"

"Ah!" exclaimed Emma. "If I didn't know better, I would say somebody had turned you into Dominic at your age!"

Nicholas couldn't help but smile at that.

"All right!" he said, throwing his hands up in the air in mock surrender. "I'll take her to the beach. But only for _half_ an hour," he corrected Emma's original suggestion.

"That sounds fine," Emma agreed.

"Hurrah!" Tess whooped, and took off down the path to the shore, Nicholas running behind to catch up with her.

Emma continued making the invitation cards for next week's ball. She looked at the one that she had just written and smiled to herself, thinking how pleased Nicholas would be to see Lord Fontaine's daughter, Marianne, on the list.

The truth was, even as she had told Dominic years ago that Nicholas was like their son, he had, in fact, become their son, in every sense of the word. He called them "Mother" and "Father", and Tessie was a sister to him.

"What was that all about?" Dominic said, entering the morning room in which Emma was sitting.

"Tess and Nicky went down to the beach," she said, dreamily. The warm weather always made her a bit drowsy.

"Why do you let Tessie go down there?" he asked, running his hands through his hair, a nervous habit which Emma had picked up on.

"Why does it bother you so?" she asked, not understanding why an afternoon on the beach should bother somebody so much.

"It's near the water and…" he finished lamely.

"She's with Nicholas," Emma replied, still confused.

"I know, but… I would rather that we all of us stayed away from the water…"

Emma looked at her husband with great concern.

"Love, you look terrible. What's the matter?"

"Dreams. Nightmares, rather. They plague me endlessly. You, drowning. Tessie, screaming for me, begging to breathe, being pulled down into the water…" he trailed off, unable to continue.

Emma was at his side instantly.

"Darling," she said, stroking his handsome face, "What would make you think that could ever happen? What is the matter, dear?"

He sighed and looked away from her. How could he ever explain to her? How?

"Are you hiding something from me?" she asked suspiciously. She was not particularly good at reading people, but Dominic was making it all too obvious that he had a secret that he did not want to share.

"Emma," he whispered, drawing her close into his chest, so that she could not see his face and the way his whole body was shaking. "What if… what if one of us had the chance to save the other, no matter what the cost?"

Emma drew back and stared at him, examining his expression intently.

"What do you mean?" she said, still puzzled.

"I…" he wanted to say, but broke off. "I'm going to get Tess."

"They're having fun, Dominic," she said, exasperated. "Let them play."

"Next week is Tess's tenth birthday," he said slowly.

"Yes…" Emma nodded, confused as to why he sounded so uncertain about it. "What of it?"

"She… she should be at home, helping you."

"She's a little girl!"

"It won't hurt her to actually do something useful once in a while," he snapped, not really meaning to sound harsh.

As he stalked out of the manor and down the garden path, she shook her head, bewildered.

"Someday, he'll tell me what this is all about. He hasn't been this bad since Tessie was born," she thought to herself.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Dominic headed for the beach, whence he could already hear the faint squeals of his daughter and the half-hearted replies of his son. He heaved a heavy sigh.

_My son_.

Nicholas was nothing less of that. He was no longer the orphaned cousin, simply the older brother and the loved son. But, still, Dominic's heart ached when he thought of another boy, whose black hair framed a face so similar to his own.

"Bah! I'm imagining things!" he exclaimed to himself. "An infant! How can you tell who an infant resembles?"

Dominic had not let his lost son ruin his family. In fact, he was the perfect father and husband, if perhaps a little too strict where his family's safety was concerned. But now… Now ten years had passed, and he wanted to go after his son. Every fibre of his being demanded that he leave post-haste and chase across the world, looking for the black-haired boy and the monster who had taken him away from his true family.

"I don't even know his name," he thought to himself. "A fine search it will be!"

Even as ideas began to form themselves of what schooner to use as transport and where to begin the search, he passed over the sand dune that had hitherto blocked the source of the childlike yelps and found himself looking directly at his Theresa, bouncing in the waves, fully clothed, while Nicholas looked on from the sand, occasionally wrinkling his nose as a breaking wave splashed his boots.

"Theresa de Winter!" Dominic shouted.

Tess looked up from the water to see her father, almost livid, advancing upon her. She pouted and began to walk out of the water.

"But Papa…"

"No. What were you doing in the ocean?"

"Swimming…" she responded, looking at the ground and fiddling with a small black pebble.

"Tess, how many times must I tell you?" Dominic demanded, taking her by the shoulders and looking into her face. She refused to meet his eyes.

"I say this because I love you; I don't want to see you hurt."

"You never let me do anything!" she said huffily.

"Please, Tess," Dominic said nervously. "Come out of the water."

Nicholas had stopped sulking long enough to notice the pleading tone of his father's voice.

"Why is he like this lately?" he thought to himself, wondering about this sudden change in mood. Ever since the birthday ball had been announced, he had been on edge and especially concerned about Tessie. Of course, he had always hated it when she went near the water. Nicholas had no question as to the reason for this.

The months of sorrow following Emma's disappearance would often float up in his mind, reminding him of the execution of his birth parents and the great grief of his now-father Dominic. (The former he imagined, for he had not witnessed the terrible sight.)

"Come along, Tess," he said, smiling down at the pouting girl. She had her arms crossed across her chest and looked every bit like a miniature Emma.

"Fine," she murmured, taking Nicholas by the hand, but refusing to look at her father.

Dominic sighed and walked slowly behind his children.

"I'm sorry, Tess," he called from behind.

She said nothing.

They were silent until they reached the house. When they arrived, Emma looked up from her work and almost burst out laughing at the picture. Her jovial daughter was sulking, her brooding son was grinning like mad to amuse the little girl, and Dominic, usually looking quite content, had his face completely downcast.

"Well, what's the matter with my family today?" she exclaimed, rising to go to Tessie, who was beating at the floor with the heel of her shoe.

"I don't want her playing in the ocean!" Dominic said, trying to explain his motive, and failing.

Emma raised an eyebrow.

"Is this about me, love?" she asked softly, watching him run his fingers through his hair shakily.

"N-no," he said, almost truthfully. "It's just… not safe. You know that."

"All of the other girls play in the water!" Tess protested.

"You aren't all of the other girls!" Dominic snapped. "You are the future Lady de Winter and my daughter!"

Tess looked up at him defiantly and then stalked off with a muttered, "I'm going to my room!"

Emma rolled her eyes in annoyance at Dominic, then followed her daughter upstairs.

Nicholas walked over to his father and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Women," he said sympathetically.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Far, far beyond that shore, where the water was cold and sailors didn't care to go, another child splashed around in the ocean, albeit under the waves. A school of fish swam idly past and he giggled, frightening them away and creating a bright swirl of yellow.

He swam past a reef and peeked around a corner to look at the anemones waving at him; he waved back and continued swimming, this time with a determined destination. He ducked corners and skirted the bigger fish, focusing on where he was going this time, instead of staring at his beautiful surroundings.

Finally, a large wall loomed into view. He swam under a corner of it, where the sand had fallen away and left a crack only large enough for him to get through. Having gone through this crevice, he dove upwards toward the water's surface, heading for one corner of the wall.

What appeared from underwater to be a great rock face was in fact a hollowed cavern, hidden from the outside world and with elevated ridges all along the side, leading into a longer, elongation of the cave, well away from the water.

The boy lifted himself from the water and pulled himself onto this extensive ledge, using his elbows for balance. His eyes scanned the dark gloom of the cavern, looking for someone. Finding nobody, he shrugged his shoulders and pulled himself all the way up, giving a flick of his tail which splashed water all along the ground.

"Anthony!" a voice scolded.

His head whipped around and he looked up at the beautiful young woman standing over him.

"What is it, Mum?" he asked innocently.

"You know I don't like it when you splash water everywhere!"

"I couldn't help it," he grinned sheepishly, trying to conceal the end of his offending tail in the water below.

The woman's harsh look melted and she smiled down benevolently upon him.

"How was your day?" she asked, sitting down next to him, her blue robes cascading around her and brushing against Anthony's shoulders.

"Wonderful!" he gushed and proceeded to tell her all that he had seen. She nodded attentively and combed out his hair while he was talking, marveling at the amazingly dark black colour, which had never faded, as that of most infants does, but had remained the shade of obsidian rock.

"…And then I saw a girl," he was saying, "on one of the docks—"

She stopped short.

"What?" she interrupted, narrowing her eyes.

Anthony knew at once that he had let slip something wrong and instantly bit his tongue, scolding himself mentally for saying it.

"How many times," she began, now seething with anger, "must I tell you to stay away from land?"

"But, Mother," he tried to soften her.

"I don't want to hear it! Haven't I told you what monsters humans are? Haven't I? Do you know what they would do to you if they saw you?"

Anthony looked down into his lap and began to whimper softly.

"What? What is it?" she said, softening her tones.

"I just want a friend," he whispered. "It's so lonely when you're not around." A tear trickled down his cheek and fell onto the stone ledge with a soft _clink_. It sparkled briefly before Sylphide swatted it into the water.

"Are you lonely, my dear?" she asked kindly.

He nodded his head, still not looking up at her.

She ducked her head in understanding and took his head into her own lap.

"Hush, love, hush," she whispered softly. "I have been very selfish to have left you alone like this. We'll amend that."

He looked up at her, eyes shining.

"But who?"

"Leave that to me, dearie," she said, smiling to herself and casting a sideways glance towards her son's tail. "You can leave that to me…"

"I love you, Mummy," he said, embracing her and giving her a kiss on her cheek.

"And I love you, Anthony," she replied. "I'll make it better, don't worry."

Anthony smiled in response, to signify that he understood, but then he furrowed his brow.

"Mother?"

"Yes, darling."

"How come…" He didn't know how to say it so as not to anger her. But it had been bothering him. "How come I'm different from you?"

Sylphide looked down at the merboy, whose bright eyes held so many more questions that he did not dare to ask. In this case, she knew exactly what he meant.

"I can be like you, if you want me to be," she said simply.

"I do!" he exclaimed.

"But then I won't be able to find a friend for you," she said, hoping this would lead him off of this unpleasant topic.

Anthony said nothing for a while and then asked,

"But, Mum, you _look_ like a human and—"

"And I am not," she said simply.

"So…" He was now completely bewildered. "So what, ah, what are you?"

"A goddess, my darling, just as you are a god," she said, sighing softly and taking his head once more into her lap.

A/N: Well, this is obviously ten years later. I hope I haven't completely ruined everything with all of these new sections and plot points! However, I think it makes the characters that much more interesting and complex. Also, I have enabled Anonymous review. I didn't realize it was disabled! Please leave me a line or two about what you thought. It would really make my day!

Much, much love,

-Titania

P.S. I've got another contest/riddle coming up! Sharpen your guessing skills!

P.P.S. Don't you just love older Nicholas!


	11. Birthday Surprises

Theresa de Winter spun around, showing off her new lilac dress to her many admirers.

"Isn't it pretty?" she demanded of them.

"Quite beautiful," Emma said with a smile.

"A true princess," Nicholas said and rolled his eyes.

Dominic shot a glance at Nicholas, then said to her, "You look like a flower fairy!"

She blushed and gave a small curtsy.

"You're quite ready for the ball tonight," Emma whispered, leaning in to kiss her daughter.

The blonde head bobbed away from the kiss and giggled at the thought that she had defied her mother in this act of affection.

Emma sighed and gave up, going over to where Dominic was sitting.

"They grow up so quickly!" she exclaimed. "It seems only yesterday I was holding an infant in my arms, and now, I can't even kiss her!"

Dominic gave a brief smile and turned away.

"Nicholas?" Emma asked softly, giving up trying to get anything out of her husband. "Nicholas."

"Hmm?" he looked up from his daydreams.

"I have invited Lord Fontaine to the ball."

"What?" he asked, his interest piqued.

"Lord Fontaine and his wife."

"I thought she never left the house?" he asked, confused.

"Yes, she mostly stays at him, but sometimes she will go out. And she is going to come."

Nicholas lost interest.

"As is Marianne."

He quickly regained it.

"Marianne?" he tried to ask nonchalantly.

"Yes, the pretty girl you met at Terrence Manor."

Nicholas blushed a bright shade of crimson and muttered an "excuse me", taking off in the direction of his room. Tessie skipped off after him, eager to show off her dress to every servant in the house, especially her good friend Henry.

Emma laughed and turned to Dominic, anxious to see him also amused by the joke. No such luck.

"I can't do this anymore!" she said to the ceiling.

"What?" Dominic asked, snapping out of his reverie.

"I can't put up with you never being around!"

"I'm around!" he exclaimed, eyes wide at the accusation. "When was the last time I went away for more than an hour?"

"No, I mean consciously around," she said, throwing her hands into the air. "Always moody, always thinking about something, never telling me. Me! Your wife!"

She was quiet for a moment, but then decided to try a new strategy with him.

"Perhaps… Perhaps I can make it better."

"How?"

"Well… I have these magical powers…" she began slyly.

Dominic jumped about a foot and stepped away from her. Emma, not expecting this reaction at all, suddenly looked on the verge of tears. He was looking at her as if he was afraid.

_Afraid? Of ME?_

"I asked you never to mention that again!" he shouted.

Emma stood still, confused, frightened, but above all, on the verge of tears. Her husband, her beloved Dominic, was angry with her because she was trying to help him! It made no sense at all. Something was so very, very wrong.

She looked at him steadily, her bottom lip quavering, and then she ran out of the room, brushing against his arm and letting her sobs consume her. She took the stairs she was certain her daughter would not have taken. Once in the attic of the house, she hid her face in her skirt and wept, for all that seemed wrong.

She, too, had dreams sometimes. But they were of something else. Something terrible. She was being hurt, tortured. The face of her tormentor was a blur. He made demands and asked questions she could not answer. And everywhere, there was water. And then her eyes would close, perhaps forever…

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The ball was magnificent. Many people had come, although they suspected that this would not be a grand affair. Quite the contrary. Apparently, the tenth birthday of Lord and Lady de Winter's daughter was a huge affair.

Looking upon the child, nobody could doubt why this was so. She was quite the little lady and the very picture of her beautiful and charming mother.

Emma was seated on a dais at the head of the ballroom. For once, she was not mingling and shaking hands with everybody. She had left that to Dominic and to Nicholas. While Dominic had tried to apologise to her shortly after she had come down from the room and her hysterics were over, she had waved him away, distracted and not wanting to speak with him.

An hour of the ball had past and it was glaringly obvious that the air was tense between Emma and Dominic. Tessie was joyously oblivious to this, for she was quite occupied with her presents and her guests. Nicholas was inattentive and did not care about anything unless it was a young woman walking late through the door. The other guests, however, were shocked at this development. They had never been known to quarrel and the rift seemed very deep, as neither even acknowledged the other.

Emma was trying to forget everything that had happened earlier that day. Instead, she was focused on looking for Lord Fontaine, his new wife, and his daughter.

It was no secret that the new Lady Fontaine was unusual. After the first Lady had died and left the Lord an infant girl, he was inconsolable, until he found this other woman. Her name was Celeste and nobody could say where she had come from. All that they knew was that she was unusual. Of course, she was very beautiful, but the problem was something else. She was a cripple.

As far as anybody could tell, she was perfectly healthy, but she could not walk. Simple as that. When questioned, she would avert her eyes and refuse to answer. Other than that, it was obvious why Lord Fontaine had married her. She was beautiful and quite charming when she did actually speak. Her stepdaughter adored her and so did her husband.

At least, that is what Emma had heard about the woman… She had never actually seen her. Lord Fontaine had said, however, that she would accompany them to this ball.

Just as Emma was considering what the source of a two hour hold-up could be, the crowd parted to reveal Lord Fontaine, his daughter Marianne, a lovely girl of fifteen with upswept auburn hair and hazel eyes, and, just behind, carried on a sedan chair by two servants, Lady Fontaine.

Everybody was in shock to see her out like this, for it was rumoured she never left her house. However, she had recently been seen at a party and it was presumed that she was prepared to leave the house.

"Lord Stephen Fontaine, Lady Celeste Fontaine, and Miss Marianne Fontaine!" the majordomo announced as they entered Emma's view.

For once, she rose from her chair and walked over to greet them. It was far too fascinating an opportunity. Nicholas had gotten there first and was already attempting to charm Marianne, who was blushing with the pleasure of his attentions.

"My dear Lord. And Lady!" she added, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman's face. She had heard too much about this woman's beauty.

"Ah, Lady de Winter!" Lord Fontaine said merrily. "You see, Celeste kept her promise. My angel!" he beamed, smiling at her fondly. "Well, do say hello to your hostess.." he prompted.

Lady Fontaine, who had hitherto been occupied trying to settle herself on a couch at the side of the room that had been set up for her.

"Lady Celeste," Emma said, curtsying.

"Lady de Winter," Lady Fontaine said, inclining her head.

Both women then raised their heads and gasped.

"Aurore?" Emma asked, her eyes wide.

The other looked terrified and cast a glance around her, like a trapped animal desperate for escape.

At the farther end of the room, Dominic's ears pricked up.

_Aurore? Where…?_

And then he remembered. The silky voice. The _slimy_ voice.

"Aurore will be so pleased…"

And Emma knew her.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Anthony swam even faster this time to the cave he knew as 'home'. He did not bother to pause or to look aside, only rushing on through the current.

Today was his birthday and Mother had a present for him. A very special present, she had said. And it was time to go get it. He had spent the whole day wondering what it might be. Something new to amuse him? A game of some sort? Something pretty? (Just as any merperson, he appreciated the value of shiny and pretty things.)

He finally saw the outer wall of the cave and swam under, his tail smacking against some rocks at the bottom in his eagerness to see his gift.

He drew himself out of the water to see his mother, standing with a broad smile across her face.

"I promised you a special present for your tenth birthday, did I not?" she asked with a smile.

He nodded fervently, water splashing all over. His eyes greedily surveyed the cavern and he tried to see into the recesses, although soon gave that up. His eyesight was not as good above the water and he could only make out faint outlines. He had never seen what lay beyond in the cave.

He snapped his eyes back to his mother, who was waiting for him to pay attention to her.

"Well?" he asked impatiently.

"Well, wait a minute while I go get it."

She walked off into the murky shadows and he squinted to try to see what she was getting.

When she returned, he saw nothing, except that she had her hands behind her back. "She is holding it behind her back!" he thought excitedly.

Sylphide smiled again and with a flourish, pulled out a little girl, bound by the wrists, from behind her. The child looked absolutely terrified and nearly fell over at the sight of Anthony's tail.

Anthony, at first overjoyed, suddenly scowled.

"What good is that?" he demanded.

"What's wrong, my darling boy?" Sylphide asked sweetly.

"She's human!" he pointed out, gesturing to his own lack of legs.

"Easily fixed, not to worry," she soothed him, and promptly pushed the girl into the water.

As the child rose, sputtering and spitting out salt water, she scrambled for the ledge where Anthony was sitting, clawing her way desperately out of the cold ocean.

"You see, Helen?" Sylphide said happily. "Now you can have a friend, just as you prayed for. And my son will have a companion!"

Helen's eyes widened as she realized that something was wrong. She looked down into the water. There, trailing behind her, as if it was supposed to have been there always, was a tail, covered in golden scales.

She screamed.

Sylphide smiled gently towards Anthony as he turned his attention to her, full of concern for her anxiety.

"There, now, comfort your new friend. Teach her how to swim, for I daresay she doesn't know how."

Anthony looked once at the girl, still uttering soft yelps of horror, then at his mother, who looked very satisfied with herself. For the first time in his life, he felt a distrust towards her.

"Why did you scare her like that?" he demanded.

"Do you think she would have gone willingly?"

"Then why do this to her?" he said, anxious to help the girl, who was feverishly moaning with her eyes closed.

"You said you wanted a friend," Sylphide answered simply.

"But…" he started to say, then stopped.

"Besides, she added, gathering up her skirts, as if to leave, "You're the one who made me turn her into a mermaid."

"I didn't!" he said vehemently, slapping his fin against the ledge for emphasis, as a child might stamp his foot.

"But what good would a human have done you?" she said, her voice full of a concern which Anthony had no way of distinguishing from insincere.

"Happy birthday!" she said softly and disappeared.

Anthony blinked once, twice. Then, he turned his attention to the girl, so recently a normal human child, now a creature of the sea, trapped in its rolling waves. He was flooded with guilt, an emotion he had never before experienced.

As he looked at her desperate attempts to wake herself from a dream that was all too true, he couldn't help thinking, "And this is my fault…"

A/N: I don't have much to comment on in this story; it is all self-explanatory. However, I would like to see more reviews, please! I know people are reading this, according to the number of hits! Take a minute and let me know what you think. After all, I can't improve it if I don't know what is wrong!

To my regular reviewers and readers: I love you all so much! Thanks for really making me happy and eager to continue writing!

And now…

A RIDDLE!

Almost…

Earlier, I alluded to what had turned Aurore into a mermaid in the first place… Hint: She was, in a way, sacrificed to Sylphide. (Check Chapter 7!) The first reader to write to me in either a PM or a review what Greek myth this is based upon will win. The winner may ask me any one question relating to the future of the story and I promise to answer it completely in a PM. (Just don't share it with the rest!)

All the best and best of luck!

-Titania


	12. Washed Ashore

Aurore had been taken herself to that shore, hoping to find her family. Hoping to go home, after so many years under the hand of a tyrant.

When she awoke, she found herself not at home, but in a gaol. Her body had been clothed with a harsh wool blanket, and she was laid out on the floor, for lack of a bed.

Nothing had prepared her for this. She blinked a few times to let her eyes adjust to the dim light. She then tried to raise herself. Just as she was about to stand, she collapsed to the ground again, gasping in pain.

Sylphide. She had lied. Yes, she had returned her legs to her. Only, now they were useless. For every time she set her foot upon the ground, it felt as though the sole was being pierced by a number of sharpened daggers.

She realized the deception and began to weep.

"Why me?" she demanded of the stone ceiling. "What have I done?"

A guard happened to enter the room where her cell was located.

"Because you were found being indecent in view of ladies and gentlemen," he answered with a shrug.

Aurore couldn't help but smile to hear her native French being spoken. She answered.

"I was ill."

"Were you?"

"Yes, sir. Ship-wrecked, I think," she lied.

"Well, Mademoiselle, you should've said something!"

Aurore managed a wry smile.

"I wasn't conscious, Monsieur."

The guard laughed at the joke that had been made at his expense.

"Mademoiselle, now that you are awake, we will take care of this mess."

He went to open the door of the cell. As he walked in, she looked up at him expectantly.

"Mademoiselle, won't you get up?" he asked, surprised.

"I cannot walk, Monsieur," she said quietly.

"Oh!"

The guard carefully lifted her and carried her out of the disagreeable cell.

"Do you treat all of your lady guests this way?" she asked, joking, as he carried her to the closest thing the police station had to a comfortable room.

The guard flushed, and Aurore was silent.

They entered the room of the chief and he let her sit upon the chaise that was opposite the man's desk.

"Our sleeping beauty is up?" the head of the police joked.

"She says she has been shipwrecked," the guard supplied.

"I have," she said, nodding in affirmation.

"What is your name, dear?"

Aurore was about to blurt out the name on the tip of her tongue. Then, she remembered that Aurore de l'Azyr was long gone and, even so, she would be 26 and not 16.

"Celeste," she quickly made up. "Celeste de la Mer."

The men laughed.

"How convenient," the chief said, grinning at her. "'Of the sea', eh?"

"Milord, that is the name I give myself now."

"Oh?"

"My name is Celeste, I know that, but I know nothing else. I have forgotten so much…" She looked to see if this would have the proper effect. It didn't.

She promptly burst into tears.

"Mademoiselle!" the men exclaimed, going to comfort this poor girl, who was very beautiful indeed.

"I only want to find a home. My home," she whimpered.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Aurore had been taken to the home of the chief. His wife cared for her very well and she had stayed with the family. She feigned amnesia whenever her origins were questioned.

Although many physicians examined her legs, the source of her inability to walk was never discovered. Aurore refused to actually try walking. She knew that a single step and her feet would be bleeding all over the place. She knew also that she would have to do more than fake amnesia to explain away feet that bled upon contact with a marble floor.

The chief's family had cared for her for eight years, until she met Lord Fontaine. He was a handsome man and, while supposedly a dozen years her senior, was, in fact, only two years older. The witch had left her that much. She did not have to explain why she would not age.

She liked being Lady Fontaine, but it was rather wearying and she felt isolated because her husband often went out to introduce Marianne into society. This one time, just this once, she decided that she would accompany them. And for such a terrible thing to happen!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Aurore!" Emma exclaimed, her eyes widening.

"My name is Celeste," the other woman managed weakly.

The guests were not paying much attention to this, but Dominic was at Emma's side already and listening to what was being said about this Aurore. An Aurore who might know where his son was.

"But you are her!" Emma exclaimed. "You saved my life once! But how are you…"

Emma's eyes trailed to Lady Fontaine's legs. The latter followed her gaze and flushed bright crimson.

"You cannot walk?" Emma said in a voice just above a whisper.

Lord Fontaine, who had been patient until then, finally decided to speak up.

"My dear Celeste is not well, Lady de Winter. You surely know that."

Emma knew she had not told him, just as surely as she was looking at the mermaid that had saved her life so many years ago.

Dominic was thinking rapidly. If she had saved Emma's life, then she was… The mermaid! He remembered the brief explanation Emma had given him of her rescue. And there was a mermaid named Aurore in that story. Heavens, could this be her? But why was she human?

Emma said nothing, but dipped her head and went off in the other direction, leaving Aurore nervously tapping her nails against her dress.

"My apologies, Lord Fontaine, Lady Fontaine," Dominic said, inclining his head towards the two of them hastily, before leaving.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Later that night, Dominic accosted the woman called Celeste when he was certain nobody would notice.

"Lady Fontaine!" he hissed, sotto voce.

She looked up, startled.

"Yes, milord?" she asked.

Dominic gulped a few times before blurting out a very blunt question.

"Were you the mermaid who rescued my wife?" he said hastily, barely audible.

But Aurore had heard.

Her eyes widened and she quickly shut them, as well as pressing her lips together.

Dominic accepted this as his answer. She was.

"Then you know what became of my son," he said, just as softly.

Aurore desperately tried to make all of this normal.

"Is that not your son?" she asked timidly, pointing to Nicholas, dancing with Marianne at the other end of the room.

"Please, milady," he pleaded. "I must know. I MUST know… Where is he? My son. The witch mentioned you. She said that you would be pleased. Tell me!" he demanded.

Aurore knew exactly where his son was. But she could not tell him. She opened her mouth to say that she could tell him nothing, before realizing that this would be giving away the fact that she knew any of it to begin with. She moved her lips, but no sound came out. Aurore looked terrified. One strike…

A/N: Sorry it took a while to update! I wanted to do this the right way, and it's a bit hard to do transition chapters. I hope you enjoy this bit of backstory!

No, Aurore never found her family. She was frightened, and they would be, too.

I love all of my reviewers and am so grateful for your few dropped lines. Congrats to Faylinn, who won the contest. I will continue to have these once in a while, so keep a good watch!

Much love,

-Titania


	13. Relations Both Amiable and Not

That night was over quickly. Theresa's birthday had been celebrated, but it ended on a terrible note as Lord Fontaine swept his wife and daughter out of the ballroom. Nicholas would not forgive his father for this very soon.

"Father!" Nicholas demanded, after Lord Fontaine had left with such a look of disgust at Dominic that Nicholas despaired of Marianne ever returning.

"What?" Dominic asked, anger threatening to bubble up in his voice.

"Why did you behave in that way towards Lord Fontaine's wife?" Nicholas demanded.

"You wouldn't understand," Dominic growled, stomping towards the stairs.

"Because I'm not mad?" Nicholas shouted back, incensed.

Dominic planted his foot on the top step and spun around.

"How dare you say that!" Dominic said in a fierce whisper. "You understand nothing! If you were anything but an ungrateful child, you would not be so anxious over a standing in society and more anxious over the well-being of the people who have raised you!"

With this last dramatic exclamation, Dominic walked briskly towards his room, leaving Nicholas standing on the stairs, wondering what would ever drive his beloved father to say something like that.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"He is unwell," Emma said soothingly to Nicholas, who was lying on his bed, his face buried in the pillows and refusing to surface.

"How could he say that?" Nicholas demanded, his eyes wet with tears he refused to show.

"Darling, I don't know. I don't know," Emma said, patting his back and trying to calm him down.

"And now Marianne will ha-a-ate me!" he wailed, bursting into fresh tears.

"Nicholas, please calm down. You aren't a child anymore," she tried as a last resort.

The bereaved boy finally stopped weeping and looked up at his mother.

"What's wrong with him?" he finally asked, sniffling occasionally, but otherwise calm.

"I don't know, darling," Emma replied honestly. "He won't tell me anything anymore."

"I've never seen him so distracted!" Nicholas said, frustrated with himself and with his father.

"Something is troubling him," Emma said, nodding her head in agreement. "I just don't know what."

"Well, I just hope Tess didn't notice."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The fact of the matter was that Tess did notice. She had also heard the argument between her mother and father earlier in the day, yet thought little of it. At the time, it had seemed insignificant and she had not stayed around to hear the end.

But now… Was her Papa truly so upset about something? Why wouldn't he tell them? Didn't he trust his own family?

She ran down to the beach after the party and sat on the sand, sullying her new gown. She didn't much care about that.

"What can possibly bother him so?" she wondered. "He's keeping a secret."

For a girl of ten, Tessie was surprisingly astute. This was another one of the reasons why she refused to stay in the house. She did not want to see the argument that might take place later that evening. She did not want to see her parents fight, for no child has any desire to observe such an event.

The waves were getting higher and the spray from their crash would occasionally tickle her bare feet. She closed her eyes and imagined that there was nothing but ocean in this world, nothing but a vast sea that would swallow her up and let all the troubles of the world wash away.

"Miss Tessie!" a voice screeched, echoing through the relative silence of the shore like a seagull's cry.

Tess's eyes snapped open and she turned around to see one of the maids hurrying towards her.

"Oh, Miss Tessie, such terrible news!" the maid exclaimed, panting for breath. "The ward of Count Wickham, Helen, who was of the same age as you, has been kidnapped!"

Tessie frowned in thought.

"Who?"

"Helen Mastonne! You must remember her…"

"I am afraid I don't," she said. "Do they know who kidnapped her?" Her voice was filled with concern. Whether she knew a person or not had no bearing upon the fact that somebody was in terrible trouble.

"No. Only that she is gone."

"But… why?" Tess asked. This was not the most delicate question. Usually, a child was kidnapped if he or she was the progeny of a wealthy family or a powerful family. A poor ward like Helen Mastonne, even if her guardian was wealthy, surely merited no such attention. She herself had no fortune and the kidnapper could hardly gain anything by the kidnapping.

"It does not matter, Miss. What matters is that if a child like Helen could be stolen in broad daylight, you are all the more at risk because of your family's fortune," the maid replied, almost reading Tess's mind. "And that means no more of these lonely excursions."

"What?" Tess demanded, narrowing her eyes in anger.

"I'm afraid not, Miss," the maid said, shaking her head sadly and proffering a hand with which to lead her back to the chateau.

Tess glared coldly at the maid and got up from her spot on the beach. She stalked back in the direction of the house, muttering all the while about how her father had finally gotten what he wanted.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Please don't be afraid," Anthony pleaded with the newcomer.

"Don't touch me!" she shouted, trying to move away from him and only awkwardly losing her balance and tipping over in the water.

The corners of Anthony's mouth pulled into a smile and he pulled his lips in instantly, trying not to show his amusement at her failed efforts to swim properly.

"Why are you laughing?" she whimpered, exhausted and unhappy.

"I'm sorry, Helen (She flinched at the way he used her name in such a familiar fashion), but I don't think I have ever seen anybody swim like you before," he admitted.

"Well, I haven't ever seen anybody like you before. Period," she replied, looking away from Anthony.

"No, I wouldn't think so," he said in response to her.

"Who is she?" Helen asked softly, not daring to raise her head or make the slightest movement.

Anthony immediately answered, "She is my mother."

"She is a monster!" Helen exclaimed.

"No, no, it's not like that," he jumped to her defense. "She wanted to help you. And me," he added, admitting to his selfishness.

"Some help," she said bitterly.

"You'll like it," Anthony was quick to add.

"Will I?" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips and quickly taking them off, startled by the feel of scales where skin used to be.

"Yes," he said confidently. "And you will learn to trust her. She is not so horrible."

"Oh?" she asked sarcastically.

"Yes. She is kind and wise. Sometimes, she does not show it, but she always is. And she will care for you as her own daughter, I am sure of it."

Helen was clearly deep in thought.

"What is it?"

"Well, at least I will have a mother," she said almost inaudibly.

Anthony drifted closer to her and took her hand.

"And a brother. You see?" he said. "It will be much better. You could never have a better friend than me," he affirmed confidently.

She almost laughed at the way he seemed to swell with pride as he said this.

"Well," she said, giving in to the idea that this was not going to get any better if she didn't learn how to even move about with a tail, "Then you had best teach me how to swim."

Fin (Pun Intended)

A/N: Quick little chapter. This is not the end of the story! I just feel that the next part deserves to be a new story, since I don't want to make a 40 chapter story. The new story will be posted soon, but please let me know if you would prefer a longer single story or something separate!

Many thanks,

Titania


	14. Six Years After

A/N: Because of everybody telling me that the whole new story idea was a bad one, I have decided to keep it all as one. It is a very long story, all things considering, but I was overwhelmed by the response and even that rara avis, the anonymous review! And so, here it is, still continued. Please review and make me happy!

"When are we leaving?" the young woman in the green velvet gown demanded.

"Tomorrow, Tess," her mother sighed wearily.

"And Nicholas?"

"Is staying with your father."

"Don't call him that!" she exclaimed.

"Theresa, don't say such things," Emma scolded, putting her head in her hands.

"After what he did to you, I can call him whatever I want!" Tessie rebelled, folding her arms over her chest.

"It wasn't his fault," Emma tried to say, but it came out so weakly that even she did not believe it.

"Whose was it, then? It certainly wasn't Nicky's! And it certainly wasn't yours!"

"Nobody was responsible. He lost his temper and…" Emma drifted off, running her fingers nervously over her cheek where she had felt the sting of her husband's heavy hand.

"He would have made a terrible king," Tess said softly. "I wish he would reclaim his stupid throne already."

"He can't, but it once meant a great deal to him," Emma said softly.

"We should mean more to him," Tess answered.

Emma was silent, as she agreed with her daughter and had nothing to add.

Six years had passed since he had first started acting strangely. Six long years in which she felt she was losing him, bit by bit. She had wanted to give him a son of his own, but their attempts had all failed, and he seemed to grow more anxious with each miscarriage. She often overheard him muttering about witchcraft after each failure. Vague thoughts had flitted through her mind about how she might be responsible for the evil which had come upon them…

Finally, the day had come when he had lost all patience with her. He had called her a seducer and a wretch, even as Nicholas and Tess were watching, accusing her of driving him from his grander purpose of ruling the kingdom. Emma had long been upset by his behaviour, but his slap had prompted her to do something about it.

Despite all of his begging and apologies, she had insisted that she was leaving, at least for a while. She was headed away from her Dominic again, bound again for the Continent, but this time of her own volition. She remembered what Frederick had once told her about learning his abilities on the mainland. Perhaps, she might find a way to fix all that had been so broken, of late.

Tess, growing weary of her confinement to the house, ever since the kidnapping of the Count's ward had given an excuse for this, was eager to join her mother in this change of circumstances.

They had packed and departed, and were staying at an inn before they would leave on the following day.

"Do you think he might try to follow us?" Tess asked sullenly.

"No," Emma replied softly. "He never has."

She looked at her daughter, now at the bright age of sixteen. She was in the very flower of youth, and seemed to be a veritable copy of her mother. Her bright blue eyes were now downcast and her gold curls spilled out of the sides of the cape's hood that held them in place.

Just as the two were about to leave the table where they were having dinner, a figure burst in. The rain from outside had soaked him through and he looked absolutely haggard.

"Dominic!" Emma exclaimed, recognizing in the soaking-wet man her husband.

"My darling!" he answered, reaching for her hand. "Listen to me. _Listen_," he begged, pulling her back towards her seat and kneeling before her. Tess was standing to the side, her eyes wide with surprise and anger.

"You cannot go!" he commanded. "You cannot!"

"I was under the impression that I was a hindrance and a liability for you," Emma said, arching an eyebrow.

"I didn't mean it," he moaned softly. "I don't know what came over me. I swear to you, I was thinking no such thing!"

"Then what were you thinking about?" she demanded. "Where have you been these six years?"

Dominic only shook his head.

"You don't want to tell me?" she cried.

"I cannot."

"What is it about, at least?" she asked, lowering her voice and taking his chin in her hands.

Dominic glanced briefly at Tess, but did not answer.

"My darling, please, do not leave me!" he finally said to her.

"You were right about one thing, Dominic," she said quietly, ignoring his plea. "Perhaps I am the cause of all of these woes. But I am going to seek a cure for them. I hope to find it on the Continent."

"I will go with you, then!" Dominic said firmly.

"No, love, I am going only with Tess."

"Heaven above, Emma! I am coming with you and that is all there is to it!"

She shook her head slowly.

"Oh, Dominic, do you think it is quite so easy to suddenly throw yourself back into my arms, after what you said? I am not so weak as to misunderstand your gesture," she said, biting at her lip, but taking his right hand in her own, as she said it.

Dominic looked down at the guilty culprit.

"What if I told you that it was not me that struck you so?" he asked of her.

"I would not believe you," Emma said, shaking her head and standing up to leave.

"Will you never return to me?" he asked miserably.

"Of course I will. But it will take time, Dominic. And you must learn to understand, as well, that I cannot be with you if you do not trust me."

"I do trust you!" he protested.

"Not enough to tell me everything," she said sadly.

"But…"

"Hush, now. Tessie and I need to rest. We will have a very stressful journey tomorrow. I daresay Tessie is unused to travel, in general!" she said, shooting a glance at Dominic that seemed aimed to blame him for this lack of experience.

Dominic could say nothing as she gathered her things to leave.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Deep below the rolling waves over which Tess and Emma would travel on the morrow, a young man and woman swam, side by side. Rather, a young _mer_man and_ mer_maid, judging by the golden tails that they possessed.

"We don't _have_ to go see her," the mermaid told her companion.

"Yes, we do. We haven't seen her in months!"

"And we've been the better for it!" Helen growled.

"She's my mother," Anthony tossed out as a last resort.

"What do I care? She did this to me!" Helen exclaimed throwing her arms out, as if to indicate her whole body.

Anthony stopped swimming and simply drifted where he was.

"I thought you liked being here with me?" he asked quietly, almost nervously.

"Oh, Tony, I do, but I can only handle so much of this.. this.. WATER!"

"Yes, it is something to be encountered here," he said, raising his eyebrow.

"Listen, perhaps we might find a way to escape," she whispered conspirationally. "To leave this all behind and return to the human world!"

"What good would that do me, Helen?" he asked, sighing. "This is my world. This is all I have ever known."

"I don't think you were born like this," Helen mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

"You look nothing like that terrible old witch! And—" she added, silencing his protests with a hand, "Why would she be human and you not, anyway? Who is your father, then?"

Anthony found that he could not answer.

"Then we cannot be certain if this is how you always were or if she made you this way just as she made me this way!" Helen burst out, nodding in approval of her own logic.

"What does it matter how I might have been?" he said, irritated. "I am the way I am now, and that is all I care about! I like it here, even if you do not!"

They swam on, each slightly annoyed with the other, yet not changing course.

"The waters are colder today," Anthony commented, trying to engage Helen in conversation.

"What of it?" she snapped, blocking this attempt.

Anthony said nothing and stayed silent for a while until they spotted something above the surface of the water. Wreckage, as one might find after a shipwreck. Flotsam, jetsam, and, amidst it all, the body of a human…


	15. New Beginnings

A/N: A great thanks to my reviewers! I am hoping that this is not too random and scattered to prevent you from enjoying it! Please continue to review and to read. I do this for you! Also, sorry for my little bout of poetry. I wrote it up and thought it appropriate for the story…

-Titania

And now… on with the story!

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The sloop had weighed anchor and cast off. Despite the protests of her mother, Tess was standing by the rail, looking out over the water, a deep blue that clearly signified icy depths. She had left her mother in the cabin below and was seeking solitude and time away, to think about everything that had been happening.

She was singing softly and was so distracted that she did not even notice when her mother came up behind her to listen.

"The lonely rose swayed in the breeze,

Her heart pierced through with thorns.

She looks upon the distant sea

And wishes to be borne

Across the woods and empty fields

To that great plain's embrace

And taste the salt upon her lips,

Feel spray upon her face.

The water-lily, cast adrift,

Bemoans her violent home.

She dreams to find a root on land

And sleep in sweetest loam.

Her tears are mangled by the waves,

Her leaves are tossed about.

Each petal gracing her bright frame

Seeks rest from wat'ry drought.

The rose and water-lily wish

To have the other's life.

What do they know of others' woe

Compared with their own strife?"

"That's a terribly gloomy song," Emma said softly, as the last note departed from Tess's throat.

Tess turned about abruptly.

"I didn't know anybody was listening," she said, blushing.

"Where did you learn it? I have never heard it before," her mother replied.

"I made it up," Tess answered, without thinking about whether or not she had.

"It's very beautiful. Perhaps you have a talent with such things?"

"Perhaps," Tess said, her thoughts still not entirely focused.

"I'll leave you alone," Emma finally said, taking her leave and going back to the cabin.

Tess swayed slightly on the spot, her eyes unfocused and staring at nothing in particular. The sailors were pleased to see this pretty girl standing on the deck; appealing to the eye and with a lovely voice, to boot. They didn't say anything, but grinned at each other and kept looking up from their work to stare at her.

As for Tess, she was thinking about something she had overheard the night before last. The night before her father had struck her mother and caused this upheaval in her life.

She had been unable to sleep and got up to sneak something to eat from the kitchens. As she passed her parents' bedchamber, she stopped in her tracks as she heard a cry, as of pain.

Listening closer, she heard her father call out in his sleep, "My son!"

Ordinarily, Tess would not have assigned much significance to this cry, but there was something about his tone. Something about the way he said it. It had to mean _something_.

"My son, my boy!" Dominic was calling out. "Return him to me, I beg of you!"

He soon quieted and she went back to bed, lying awake all night to think over what he had said. Yes, she had a brother in Nicholas, but why would he ever be in anybody else's position that her father would beg for his return?

As for his cries of "my son", she would have assigned them to the most recent of her mother's miscarriages. However, there was something more significant in that sob, something that had her believe that her father was not weeping for a stillborn child.

Her thoughts were finally interrupted when one of the sailors shouted towards her to get off of the deck of the sloop.

"A storm," he called, "A hurricane!"

Startled and frightened, Tess looked up to see a dark sky and waves that were rising well above average height.

She was just about to take off towards the stairs that led to the sloop's cabin, when a great bolt of lighting struck the mast of the sloop. It collapsed with a great crash, and split the deck in two, dividing Tess from the cabin where her mother was. She drew back, away from the open water that was starting to fill the middle area between the two halves of the sloop.

On the other side, the captain and the sailors were rushing to get into the three longboats. Most of the passengers, including Emma, had been on the other side and were able to get out. Tess clung to the rail at the end of the sloop, for if she let go, she would be tossed from the deck and into the merciless waters.

"Tessie!" Emma screamed from the other side, trying to shout over the gusts of wind and pelting rain.

"Mother!" the poor girl cried, not knowing what to do about her predicament. Anybody else who had been on that end of the sloop was now underwater, for it was the smaller half and was sinking fast. The cabins below were surely flooded.

Tess's whimpers grew louder, for she did not know how else to deal with this terrible situation, except to cry and to worry. She was a Lord's daughter, for Heaven's sake, not a weathered sailor!

"Jump!" Emma commanded, even as the captain was forcing her into the last longboat about to be lowered into the water. "Jump, Tess!"

Tess took one last look about her and realized that the sloop's end was almost submerged. If she stayed on deck, she would drown anyway. At least, if she jumped, she might have a chance to stay adrift long enough for the longboats to find her.

Closing her eyes, she abandoned herself to the wild waves, hoping to find someway to tread water for at least a little while.

As she fell into the water, her poorly-aimed jump caused her to collide headfirst with one of the boards that had been tossed into the water. She gave a soft gasp and then lost consciousness, sinking deeper, deeper, where no mother could see her and no captain could reach out a comforting hand.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"It's a woman!" Anthony exclaimed, swimming faster towards where the figure was surrounded by a billow of skirts.

"Tony!" Helen whined, trying to pull him back by his arm. "Don't!"

"What?" he asked, wheeling about.

"What if she sees us?" Helen demanded, her eyes nervously darting towards the surface.

"What if she dies?" he challenged.

"Please, Tony, please don't go," Helen begged. "You don't know what humans are like. You don't!" she insisted.

"Then perhaps I should learn," he said, wrenching his arm out of her grip and swimming up towards the drowning figure.

As he reached her, he remembered what he knew about humans. The most important thing. They could not breathe underwater.

"Help me," he said, his voice strained, as he tried to push her towards the surface.

Helen, finally giving in to the fact that he was not going to give up, swam closer and grabbed the girl's arm, even as Anthony caught up her waist. Together, they managed to heave her towards the surface and Anthony stuck his head out of the water, to make sure that the human was above it, as well.

"We need to get her to land," he told Helen, who nodded fervently. She had been startled by the face of the girl, a face that was too familiar, somehow.

"There is no land nearby," he told her ducking his head underwater to breathe more easily, escaping the sting of the rain.

"Your mother's cavern?" Helen suggested.

"She won't be able to breathe," Anthony replied, starting to shake his head.

"We only need her to be underwater for a minute, while you get her under the wall and to the surface. It's our only hope," she replied.

Anthony bit his lip, but nodded anyway. He wasn't quite concerned about getting her under the wall and to the ledge. His anxiety was over what would happen once she was on the ledge and in full view of his mother. After all, she didn't seem to like humans very much and tried to relieve them of their condition far too frequently. Helen was a prime example.

Nevertheless, they began swimming towards the cavern, Anthony keeping his head above and supporting the girl's head, who was now breathing, if just barely. At least she was breathing! Helen swam below, supporting her weight from beneath.

They reached the cavern and Anthony grabbed the girl by the waist, pulling her towards the bottom and quickly pulling into an updive as he found the crack under the wall. It took all of twenty seconds for him to do this. Helen followed shortly after.

With a strength he did not know he possessed, he pulled the poor girl onto the ledge and then pulled himself up to sit beside her. Helen remained in the water, craning her neck to see into the dark corner whence Sylphide usually emerged.

"Anthony?" a voice called. Soon enough, Sylphide walked out of the shadows. Sixteen years had not changed her in the slightest. She still looked as if she was only twenty years old or so. Her beautiful robes shone brilliantly and seemed to light up the walls of the cavern.

"Mother!" Anthony exclaimed, both anxious and happy to see her.

"Wh-.. What is this?" she asked, indicating the girl, who was now breathing more evenly, lying out on her back, out of the water.

"I found her, Mother. She was drowning. I had to help her."

"Of course, my dear boy, of course," Sylphide said, her face curving into a smile that any would have interpreted as the face of the predator having spotted its dinner. Anthony recognized this face.

"Please don't hurt her!" he exclaimed suddenly.

Sylphide looked startled, even offended.

"Why in the world would you think that I might want to hurt her?" she asked, her voice disbelieving.

Anthony hung his head. "I don't know…" If he had feet, he would have been shuffling them.

"And who are…" the sorceress leaned in to look at the girl's face. Then she drew back, laughing loudly.

Anthony looked confused and Helen looked frightened. She was beginning to wonder whether a two-day swim wouldn't have served this poor woman better than treatment at the hands of Sylphide. And what about when she woke up? If she would wake up…

"My darling Anthony!" she said, holding her stomach as she gasped for air, "What a prize you have brought home to your mother!"

His brow furrowed and he looked at the young woman. She was beautiful, to be certain, but what was so special about her that his mother should consider her a prize?

"My, but you have put me in a good mood. A charitable mood," she added, looking down at Helen, who flinched slightly.

"Well, dear, wouldn't you like to go home?" she asked the frightened mermaid.

Helen didn't know how to reply. Was she teasing her?

"Y-yes."

"Then, you will go home. This girl will stay with Anthony. What do you think of that?" she said with a satisfied smile.

Anthony's mouth fell open and Helen merely blinked.

"Well?"

"Of course!" Helen practically shrieked.

"Wonderful," the witch said, smiling at the mermaid, who was swimming closer to the ledge now that she had been promised this redemption.

"And…" Sylphide said, thoughtfully, "Perhaps it is time that my Anthony also learned something of humans. Yes, this settles it," she mumbled, nodding to herself.

"I will send you both to the human world. Of course, you may never speak of this," she indicated the cavern, "To anybody. Otherwise, you are free to go."

Anthony's eyes widened.

"B-but… I don't want to be human," he whispered.

"It won't be for long, darling. A year or so. I'll keep a good watch over you and I am sure that Helen will help you to get adjusted."

He still looked unhappy, but she was already chanting something. Anthony and Helen were holding each other's hands as they expected some sort of pain. Instead, there was nothing. A brief flash of light and then…

"Ah!" squealed Helen, standing on the ledge now, dressed in a beautiful cream gown. Anthony faltered next to her, still unsteady on his legs, dressed like a courtier of the time.

He cast a glance at Sylphide, who was smiling broadly, and then grinned at Helen, who looked absolutely ecstatic. The girl still lying at their feet was all but forgotten.

"Just remember," Sylphide warned, raising a finger. "Don't dare tell anyone about any of this, else you'll find yourself proving it rather quickly."

Helen frowned in confusion and Anthony tilted his head slightly.

"You'll turn back into merpeople, she explained, rolling her eyes. "Whichever of you speaks."

This was enough of a threat for them to understand just how seriously she meant what she said.

Sylphide turned her eyes upon the figure still lying on the ground.

"Well, then, I suppose she'll stay here for a while, until you return, Anthony," she said, her eyes focused on the girl's face. Such a familiar face, and with good reason…

She waved her hand over the girl and her body glowed with a brilliant light.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tess opened her eyes and quickly shut them. She was not where she expected to be, which was her bed, in her room, at the chateau. As she closed her eyes, memories started to flood back. The argument, their departure, the storm…

Her eyes shot open again. Was she dead?

There were three people standing above her. She heard the sound of lapping water behind her.

"Are you well, Miss?" one of the people, a young man, by the sound of it, asked.

She squinted and saw that he looked familiar. But…!

"Miss?" he asked again, dropping down onto one knee to get a closer look at her face.

No, she was not well. She was staring into the sixteen-year-old face of her father. And he looked very nervous, for some reason.

"Who are you?" she demanded, sitting up on her elbows. "Where am I?"

"You—" he began, but was cut off, for just at that moment, she looked down at herself and fainted clear away.


	16. Reunions

A/N: Thanks to all! Just to clear it up, she was looking at Anthony, who looks remarkably LIKE Dominic, in the previous chapter. Well, anyway, look, it's a new chapter!

When Tess again opened her eyes, the young man and one of the other people was gone. The fishtail, however, was not. She shuddered and shut her eyes again, muttering how she was dreaming, this was all a dream, nothing but a dream, or maybe she was dead! Yes, that was it… She had died in the storm…

"No, you foolish child, you didn't die in the storm," the remaining person said.

Tess opened one eye tentatively and saw that this other person was a beautiful young woman. Only, there was something strange about her beauty. It was… cold? Yes, like the marble statues of goddesses, standing firm and perfect, but clearly unfeeling.

She had a thousand questions she wanted answered, but they all seemed to combine into one:

"How?" she asked incredulously.

"My son rescued you," the woman said, waving her hand nonchalantly.

"Son?"

"The boy who was here before. Or perhaps you don't remember him?"

How could she forget?

"He.. he looked like my father."

"Remarkable, isn't it?" the woman crowed.

"But.. he was my age. And so are you, or just about. How could he be your son?" she asked, trying to puzzle it out."

"There are mysterious forces in this world, child," the woman replied. "You would be more than a bit surprised if you learned just how many years I have seen."

Tess did not try to contest this. But she did have something she wanted to contest very eagerly at that moment.

"And… th-this?" she quavered, indicating her tail. ("Ooo, but that sounds horrible!" she thought to herself, even as the word crossed her mind.)

"A temporary situation."

"I don't understand!" Tess said, shaking her head.

"Nor do I expect you to."

"B-but, your son? Why does he look like my father?"

"Because sons often look like their fathers," the woman said with a malicious grin.

"That can't be true!" Tess cried out. "My father _never_ would have betrayed my mother." Despite all of what had happened lately, she knew that would always be true.

"I never said he did."

"But that would mean…"

"He was quite loathe to leave before he was certain that you were all right. He doesn't know of course. Yes, I'm sorry I have deprived you of the only chance you will ever have for an interview with your brother," the woman said calmly, inspecting her fingernails.

Tess, in a most unladylike fashion, let her mouth fall open.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Where _are_ we?" Anthony demanded, trying desperately to catch up to Helen, who was all but jogging over the pebbles that littered the beach towards an estate that stood facing it.

"You'll see! You'll see!" she called, out of breath, but still hurrying as best she could on shaky legs.

Anthony frowned, but followed her. He hated being kept in the dark about anything.

They reached the door together and Helen reached for the large bronze knocker on the front.

"What is that?" Anthony asked, wondering at the strange gargoyle that housed the knocker. Everything was so strange here, so unusual for him. He couldn't stop staring at everything.

"Sh!" Helen commanded, putting a finger over his lips.

"But—"

Just at that moment, the door opened and a butler stood on the threshold.

"Irving!" Helen exclaimed, throwing her arms around his waist in near-hysterics.

The man lost his composure and pushed away from her.

"What is the meaning of this? Wh— _Miss Helen_?" he suddenly said, his voice dropping low.

"Yes! Yes!" she said, now weeping. "Oh, call the Count! Please!" she begged.

"Of course, Miss, of course!" he shouted, nearly tripping, running to wake the household. It was only seven in the morning and the house was still rather somnolent.

The Count had come downstairs and he slowly raised his monocle to one scrutinizing eye. It dropped far more quickly than it had been raised.

"Helen?"

"Yes, yes!" the poor girl exclaimed, running into her guardian's embrace.

"What is this? How can this be?" the elderly man asked anxiously.

"Oh, what does it matter?" Helen nearly screamed. "I am home, I am home!"

"What a blessed year this has been!" the other whispered.

"What do you mean?" Helen asked, raising her head from the crook of his arm.

"Why, your father.. He is also returned to us!"

"What!" Helen drew back, disbelief etched across her face. "But… there were witnesses. They saw him die!"

Count Wickham shook his head.

"It was another soldier. Your father had been lost in the melée, and now… So many blessings, dear girl!" he said, breathing deeply, as if trying to inhale enough air after so many breath-taking events.

Helen could only cry with joy, and beg to see her father. Anthony stood in the back, watching the joyful reunion between father and daughter, and wondering just why he had never met his own father.

"But who is this young man?" the Count finally said, addressing Anthony.

"My saviour and guiding light in these past years!" Helen exclaimed, clasping her arms around his neck, forgetting that in this society that was not quite proper. The perplexed look on her father's face reminded her of that and she quickly let go.

"Does this saviour have a name?" Edgar Mastonne, Helen's father, asked.

"His name is Anthony."

"And what exactly has he saved you from?" he pressed.

Helen bit her lip and refused to say anything.

"I… I don't remember… what happened. Something happened, but I don't know what… Where I've been… I can't remember."

She lifted a hand to her forehead and feigned dizziness.

"Oh, darling, it's all well. As long as you are back, we can piece together the rest later," her father tried to comfort her.

"Young man?" the Count addressed Anthony, who did not look up at once, still unsure whether he was being referred to here. After all, until recently, he had not exactly been a man.

"Yes?" he asked finally.

"What is your family name?"

"Ah…"

"Terrence!" Helen jumped in, to save him from more questions he could not answer.

Anthony just nodded eagerly, accepting that Helen knew answers to questions he could not understand.

"You seem very familiar to me," the Count mused. "Are you at all related to the de Winter family?"

He shook his head 'no', fervently enough to cause his black curls to spill all over his face.

"The resemblance is remarkable!" Count Wickham said, almost to himself. "Don't you agree, Edgar?"

"To whom?" Mastonne asked, equally confused.

"The former Prince Dominic. He is called Lord de Winter now."

Helen looked first at the Count, and then swept her glance towards Dominic.

"Oh!" she whispered softly. For, suddenly, she had remembered the face, that very face, of the kind lord who loved his older son and younger daughter. Yes, there was a daughter, she remembered. A girl her age. Beautiful like her mother. She looked very much like her mother. Helen knew what the Lady de Winter looked like as well. She was still trying to puzzle out these things which suddenly had a connection, while Anthony was still being interrogated by the two men.

"Please," she said hoarsely, "Let us rest. We are both so weary."

"Oh, certainly!" Mastonne said, calling to a servant to prepare two rooms.

As they left to go to their respective chambers, Helen's thoughts circled around the girl that Dominic had saved. Her face… Her face! What had made the vile witch laugh so…?

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Helen did not want to reveal to Dominic her suspicions and her theory. Did she have one? Only that perhaps the girl was a relative.

They lied to her father, coming up with small fibs that they later pierced together into something that could be believed as true. A madwoman, lonely to a ridiculous degree, had imprisoned them both. Upon her death, they were able to escape. Close enough to the truth…

Helen dreaded the day when she would re-enter society. She had never cared for it and now that her father, a General, was returned, she was suddenly wealthy and of consequence again.

The Count had gladly taken Anthony as his own ward, if only to repay him for his kindness towards Helen. Anthony never ceased to be amazed by the wonders of the human world. His guardian mistook this as the surprise of an underprivileged youth who has never experienced the life of the wealthy.

Helen had left with her father after a fortnight, despite her protests that she wanted to remain with Anthony for some time yet. Anthony himself did not seem too upset, as he was rather distracted by the multitude of unusual things going on around him. And the multitude of attractive women constantly coming up to him to strike up conversation. For, truth be told, Anthony was very handsome.

About a month after Helen had returned to her family with Anthony from Lord-knew-where, her father finally conceded that she could go to see him. He was getting his own way, though, because this meeting would occur at a ball where he wanted his lovely daughter to be noticed.

General Mastonne knew that his daughter was not plain in the least. Though he did not know of that detail, Sylphide had chosen her for a reason, and it was not her intelligence or good nature. She had been a very beautiful child and had now grown to be a very lovely young woman. Despite her protests, her father was very eager to marry Helen off to a good man, who could take care of her as the General felt he could not. He also had no desire to leave her penniless yet again if he fell in battle and felt that marriage was the only way to prevent this from happening.

Anthony had agreed to go to the ball, eager to see the festivity Helen had described to him in the earlier times, under the waves, while also seeing his best friend.

And so, the two met at the palace ball, where the good King Edward was celebrating his marriage to his new Queen Eleanor.

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Those who learned of the fate that befell Theresa de Winter shook their heads and muttered "cursed". How else could a mother and daughter share such a fate? Except that Emma had been lost and then recovered, for nobody knew what had become of her. Theresa had been seen by her mother and others, sinking into the waters and slipping from life.

Despite her many protests, the captain had refused to return to the spot, insisting that the two hours they had already spent in searching there would have yielded something.

The sloop had capsized closer to the Continent, so they sailed on towards Calais, finally reaching it in two days.

Emma had immediately boarded a ship returning to England. This was no longer about some tiff she had had with her husband. Her daughter, her only daughter, and (she thought this next rather guiltily, as Nicholas came up in her mind) her only child, in fact.

How could she tell Dominic? This kept her awake at night and caused her to turn away all food. The poor man was already half-crazed for a reason that she did not understand. Now, she was to tell him that his daughter had…? No! No, she couldn't. But she must! Oh, but she must!

The ship had made port and she had walked towards the chateau, eschewing all of her fellow shipmates' offers to take her there in their carriages. They had heard what had happened to her daughter and wanted to offer what comfort they could.

Her legs dragged behind her. She felt like Theseus, sailing in on a cold wind, black sails high overhead. Would her poor Dominic throw himself into the sea, just as King Aegeus had done? What was she going to do without him? But, then again, what was she going to do _with_ him, considering the state that he was in?

With all of these questions pressing on her heart, she approached the chateau and used one of the side entrances to go in. She ignored the shouts of the servants and the exclamations of Henry, who seemed particularly happy to see her. No, right now, they did not matter.

She walked into the study, where Dominic was sitting, trying to look over catalogues, his head in his hands. As he heard the shuffle of her skirt against the stone floor, he looked up.

"Emma! Thank the heavens! Oh, the nightmares I have had to deal with, when I heard that your ship was…" He stopped speaking quite suddenly. His face paled as he looked at his wife's downcast face.

"Wh-where's Tess?" he said, his voice barely audible. "Where is Tessie, Emma? Where is she?"

Emma set her jaw and looked him straight in the eye. With as much courage as she could manage, she told him, quite firmly.

"She is no longer alive, Dominic." Her facial expression had not changed as she said this. Dominic drew back, as if from a poisonous snake that had reared, prepared to strike. But it was too late, of course. He had received the bite and no antidote against it existed.

"She… my darling girl…" He stumbled backwards and fell into his chair.

Emma spoke softly, her eyes no longer locked with his.

"The ship encountered the storm. She was… lost in the water. We searched, Dominic, searched for hours. They wouldn't let me go back."

Reunited, yet so apart, the husband and wife embraced, forgetting what animosities might have existed between them, in the face of so much evil.

Later that night, they recounted to Nicholas what had happened. Without saying a word, he had fled to his room, his face completely drained of colour.

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A month had passed since the horrible event and Emma consented to go with Dominic and Nicholas to her brother in law's wedding celebrations. Although there was grief to spare, she seemed to be the worst off. Many suspected that she blamed herself for what had happened.

Where before she had been vivacious and joyous, she was now morose and kept mostly to herself. Dominic, who actually seemed stronger now, was desperately trying to keep what was left of his family together. It all seemed to be falling apart…

The ball was a joyous occasion for him, though, since he could finally see his brother ascend the throne as his father stepped down, even while he gained a wife. Dominic thought Eleanor a charming young lady and in every way the perfect wife for his brother.

Edward tried to speak to Emma a few times, but found it impossible. She was too far gone into herself to care very much, even on such a joyous occasion.

At that very moment, General Edgar Mastonne and Miss Helen Mastonne were announced, shortly followed by the announcement of Count Wickham and Mister Anthony Terrence.

Edward, eager to catch Emma's attention with something, told her the mysterious circumstances of Helen's return and how another young man had been found with her. Emma only looked up at the girl miserably, and then cast her eyes down again.

But, just as suddenly, she looked at the girl again, eyes lit up. Or was she looking at the girl.

She pushed her way through the crowd to reach Helen and Anthony, who were happily embracing. Never one for subtleties, she grabbed the boy roughly by the arm so that he was facing her. Her intake of breath was enough to cause everybody in the vicinity to stop what they were doing and pay attention to what was unfolding.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "Why do you look like Dominic?" Her eyes were wide, with fear or shock, or perhaps both.

"My lady," he began, in the way he had been taught, trying to withdraw his arm from her grip.

"Answer me!" she cried, giving him a shake and not releasing her hold on him.

Anthony was absolutely bewildered as to why he should be accosted in such a matter. He didn't know quite how to react. He had been reminded of the resemblance by his guardian, but this…! And all for a man he had never even seen!

Edward had managed to get through the gathered crowd by this time and he gently took Emma by the hand, trying to draw her away. He looked at the boy, though, and stopped what he was doing, his face full of wonder.

"How…?"

Dominic was outside with Nicholas during these proceedings, completely ignorant of what was going on.

"You see it!" Emma said, indicating Anthony's face with her free hand.

"Yes," Edwards said, confused, "But I don't understand who…"

Anthony, however, was having a little revelation of his own.

The woman who had him in her grip had a familiar face, as well. He wondered how this was possible, as he had never seen humans up close. Except for… the girl? Yes, the girl he had rescued! And she had looked so like her. The sensible question popped into his head.

"My lady, do you have a daughter?" he inquired politely.

"Yes, but also a son," a haggard voice replied from behind him.

There stood Dominic, looking as if the world had collapsed at that very moment, causing damage beyond repair.

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Please review! It won't kill you to leave a few words, but it might kill me to have to write all this and not know what people think. (This doesn't apply to my wonderful regular reviewers. Bisoux, for all of you!)

-Titania


	17. Deals and Dealings

A/N: Thanks for the lovely reviews! Yes, even that "whoo-hoo!" Meant something to me… Big cheer for the readers who have come out of the woodwork. And, as always, a big hug for my regular reviewers. Bisoux for all!

Everybody in the ballroom seemed to let out a collective gasp. Never had two men looked so much alike. They faced each other. Dominic seemed less startled, for he knew, at least, that there existed a child who might be like him.

"Dominic?" Emma's voice shook and she had turned completely pale. "What is going on? Who… How…?" Her questions faded; she knew there would be no answer for them at that very moment.

Anthony was frightened. Who was this man and why did he resemble him?

"Who," Dominic began, addressing Anthony, "Who is your mother?"

Anthony knew he could say nothing about it. His mother had warned both him and Helen of the consequences of a loose tongue. Therefore, he said nothing.

"You won't tell me?" Dominic asked gently, trying to coax him into speaking.

"No," Anthony replied, shaking his head and moving to leave this little circle of confusion and anxiety.

"Anthony Terrence, is that your name?" Edward asked, recalling the introduction.

"It is," he replied, glad for an alibi. But the King was not about to grant him one.

"An orphan?"

"Quite."

"Do you know who your parents were?"

"No, they both died when I was young," he lied, feigning innocence and trying to appear pitiful.

"They did NOT!" Dominic exclaimed, turning the boy to face him.

Anthony had been roughly handled quite enough for one night and was getting fairly sick of it.

"What can you mean, sir?" he asked coldly.

"I mean that there is a _reason_ why you look like me!" Dominic snapped.

"Dominic, what do you mean?" Emma suddenly exclaimed. "Have you a… a paramour you never told me of?" She looked frightened. His questions certainly seemed to suggest that he knew the mother of this boy. And his age… Those months when she was missing…

"No, darling, never!" he said vehemently, reading her thoughts. "_Our_ son. This is our son."

Emma looked even more horrified.

"That's not possible," she said, her mouth going completely dry.

"But…" Dominic could not continue. Emma was visibly shaken and her pale face contrasted extremely with her black mourning garb, making her look more dead than alive.

Anthony looked from the man to the woman, bewildered and wanting more than anything to be away from these humans and sequestered in the familiar embrace of the ocean.

As for Helen, her thoughts were with the girl she had abandoned to the witch's mercy in the cave. There could be no doubt… It had been Theresa de Winter. She had heard snatches of gossip about the disappearance of the de Winter girl, but this was proof. Absolute proof. Sylphide's laughter, her recognition of Anthony's appearance, and, oh, she had left her there!

Silence ruled the hall, as those involved did not know what to say and those not involved had nothing to say.

Helen and Anthony did not dare speak, for both knew the consequences of a spilled secret. Emma finally was the first to break the silence.

"Our son?" she whispered, looking at Dominic with something akin to hope in her eyes.

He nodded curtly.

"I… I did something terrible, Emma."

She reached out for his hand and he supported her weight as she nearly collapsed.

"Come, dear, we'll speak apart," Dominic muttered in her ear, bowing his head significantly to Edward.

As he supported his wife through the crowd, he whispered to his brother so nobody else could hear, "I must speak with her, apart. The ivory apartment. Keep him here," he added, meaning Anthony.

Edward agreed quietly, concern spelled out across his face.

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"It was the only way, don't you see?" Dominic said miserably, not able to look into the horrified face of his wife. "I was desperate, and she…"

"And this… this… monster has had him all of these years?" Emma asked. Her voice was bitter.

"Yes," Dominic mumbled, his head dropping further, his cheeks burning with shame.

"You never meant to tell me."

It was a question, not a statement.

"I couldn't bring myself to—"

"To tell me of the gambles you took with the life of a child I never knew?" she demanded, rising in a fury.

"It's not like that, Emma. I meant to find him, to go after him, to—"

She might have been a stone statue, her expression was so impassive.

"Where are you going, dearest?" he asked her, in a voice that much resembled the whine of a child receiving a scolding.

"To speak with our son," she replied, not looking at him, avoiding his eyes. Dominic stood up and went after her, but kept his distance, afraid of her reaction should he try to touch her.

Emma was trying to calm her thoughts and allow her mind to be nought but a blank. For, surely, if she let feelings and thoughts overwhelm her now, she would be lost and might go mad. She reached the staircase and descended down to the ballroom, where Edward was standing opposite the boy Anthony, who looked like he wanted to drop through the ground.

"Please, I don't feel well," he was pleading with Edward, trying to get away from the crowd, which was making him very claustrophobic.

"Young man, a few moments more, that is all," Edward answered patiently.

"I request that you let him take his leave," the Count interceded on his ward's behalf. Anthony looked up at him gratefully.

"Don't go," Emma begged, coming up from behind.

Anthony had been afraid of her the most. He looked at her, expecting to be terrified, but was shocked at the sorrow he felt to see her face.

"We have much to talk of, Anthony," she said with a great sigh. "Many years to…" She couldn't continue and broke down into tears.

Edward looked equally miserable and kept shooting apologetic glances towards Eleanor, who seemed to care less that her wedding ball was ruined. Her emotions were with the actors of this tragedy.

Anthony allowed himself to be steered out of the crowd by Emma, Dominic following behind. She led him to the same room where Dominic had taken her, despite the protests of the Count to let him just return home.

As soon as this strange family reunion was out of sight, General Mastonne turned to Helen, who looked as though she wanted to be nowhere better than with Anthony at that moment.

"Did you know of this?" he asked.

"How could I have known?" she replied anxiously. "Nobody knew!"

"Of course, Helen," he agreed. "Shall we go home for the night?"

"No, no!" she exclaimed. "I will wait for Anthony." She was upset for more than the obvious reasons. Her best friend was in trouble. What if they should have him say something he would not say under other circumstances? What if Sylphide's warning words should manifest themselves?

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"Now, then," Emma began, after Anthony had sat down and she sat down opposite. Dominic was standing, leaning on the door. "Would you care to tell me just what you have done with yourself for the past sixteen years?"

Anthony looked incredulous. _He_ was supposed to tell _them_ what he had been doing? He had no idea who these people were and what they wanted with him!

"Explain to me… Who are you?" he demanded, sitting up stiffly in his chair, instead of jumping up, in indignation. Years of having no legs had made him a master of this skill.

"I am the Lady de Winter," Emma explained patiently. "And this is my husband, the Lord de Winter. We are… your parents."

"How is that possible?" he asked, as much to himself as to them.

The Lady de Winter swallowed slowly and sighed heavily.

"Dominic? Care to explain?" she said through nearly-clenched teeth, finally acknowledging that he was in the room.

In fact, Dominic did _not_ care to explain, but he was left with no other option.

"I… Years ago, before you were born, your mother went missing. She was lost at sea," he began.

Anthony's thoughts went to Sylphide at the words "your mother", but he understood that Lord de Winter meant the beautiful woman opposite him, who looked as though she was very ill at that moment.

"I thought she was dead. We all did. And then… Two months after she had gone missing, a woman came to me. You know her." It was not a question, but Anthony did not even bat an eyelash. He had no intention of betraying his secret.

Dominic looked at the boy and, seeing nothing, continued.

"This woman, or sorceress… Who knows what she is?"

Anthony did not say anything, but thought to himself, "I know. A goddess."

"She offered me a deal. She promised to return my Emma to me, if she could have my first-born child, in return."

Anthony snorted in disbelief.

"And you agreed?" he asked sarcastically.

Dominic couldn't meet the boy's eye. "Yes. The terrible repercussions have haunted me these sixteen years."

Anthony eyed this man. He remembered what Helen had told him, that he was not Sylphide's son. If what they, Helen and Lord de Winter, said was true, then… Well, it made sense! He was the son of this human family. Kidnapped by the woman he knew as a mother. But… he wasn't human, that was what bothered him. He _couldn't_ be. Nor did he want to be, even with all of humanity's wonders.

"I am not your son," Anthony said, finally standing up and getting ready to leave.

"You cannot believe it," Lady de Winter said, shaking her head. "Nor can I. And yet, it is the truth. I feel it, even if you cannot. You are my child!"

Anthony backed away from her, for she had stretched out an arm to touch him again. He was terrified. Everything she said… he _felt_ it. She was his mother, and that was all there was to it. But if he let on, that would the same as admitting he knew Sylphide. And if he admitted that, then he would have a "tail" to tell… Even though he disliked being human, scales were not exactly fashionable on land, nor very practical.

"No, no, no, no!" he cried, vehemently shaking his head and trying to get out of the lovely room, which no longer seemed to shine, but was dark and oppressive.

"Anthony, listen to me, we are not trying to hurt you!" Dominic said desperately. "We love you and want you to stay with us!"

Anthony did not dare turn around and fling himself into his father's outstretched arms. His father! Oh!

"I m-must go!" he stuttered, reaching for the doorknob.

"What are you afraid of?" Emma asked, tears in her eyes. "Do you think that I could hurt you?"

Not you, he thought miserably. Not you! Another…!

"Please! I cannot bear the loss of another child. I cannot!" she moaned.

Anthony stopped trying to break out of the room. Another child? Then he remembered. The girl. They thought she was dead, of course. How could they know that she was still alive, that he had saved her? He wanted to tell them, but knew he could not. He could not tell them anything. What was the use?

He turned around, though, and went to Lady de Winter. He took her hand in his own and looked at her. She was so beautiful, although far from being in the prime of youth. Misery and anxiety had made her pale, but suffused her cheeks with roses. His lovely mother…

It enraged him. How could Sylphide have ruined their lives like this? She had lied to him! How was he going to return to her now? But how could he stay here, with such a threat hanging over him?

He felt truly unwell. He wanted to be in the water, hidden in its depths from all of these human woes. Alone, without Helen even. But he was powerless. His mother, no, his _tormentor_, had said he was to be here for a year. And was he to spend that time fleeing these good people, his own parents?

"That woman… I don't know her name. What has she done to you, boy?" Dominic asked.

Anthony pretended that he did not understand.

"What woman?"

"Stop it! The two of you, stop it!" Emma wept. "Why can't you just forget what was past? Let us live in the present!"

She closed another hand over the one that held her own.

"Listen to me, Anthony," she said. "I don't know and, furthermore, I don't care what was past. But…" She paused and did not speak for a moment. "But I want you to come with us."

She knew something, he could tell by the glint in her eye. He was grateful.

"I will come with you," he said nervously, expecting to collapse in a heap even for this submission. Nothing happened.

"Good," she said, finally allowing herself to smile. "Good."

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"What do you want from me?" Tess asked, for what must have been the twentieth time in that first hour.

"Nothing from you," the witch tersely replied, her nerves on edge from this incessant questioning.

"I demand to know!" Tess said authoritatively. It worked at home.

Sylphide glared at Tess, then let her mouth curve into a smile. Her eyes shone with an idea.

"Many have suffered terrible fates at my hands without irritating me, you know," she said leering at her. "I think you could do without that sharp little tongue."

Tess only glared defiantly, but said nothing.

"Not eager to become a little mute, are you?" the witch taunted.

Tess said nothing, but merely glared at Sylphide, who went about her business in the back of the cavern. It had been two hours or so since she had woken up. And she was not feeling at all well.

Her breathing was uneven and she felt ridiculously warm. She had a feeling that the source of these symptoms was her new physique, but she did not want to give in by throwing herself into the water. Everything in her called out for the cool embrace of the waves, but she fought it, afraid that giving in would mean giving up all that was human within her.

"It's no use, girlie," the witch called to her from the back of the cave. "You're not human anymore and that is all there is to it. Gods, don't torture yourself so!"

After a few more minutes of torture, Tess gave up and rolled off of the edge of the little ledge.

As soon as she hit the water, her complaints ceased and she felt as though all would be well. But when she realized the great comfort she derived from the water, she started to cry.

She clung to the ledge with one hand and with the other, brushed away her tears. She wanted to be at home, with Mother and Father, and darling Nicky. What had she done to deserve this?

"Please, I just want to go home," she pleaded with the shadows.

"Are we crying?" the woman appeared in all her glory. She made a mockingly sympathetic face.

Tess felt ashamed to look the way she did before this glorious woman.

"I want nothing to do with you, girlie. My son isn't coming back for another year. When he does, you can have his company, for I won't waste my time with a pathetic, weeping thing like you!" With that, she stalked away, leaving Tess in disbelief.

"Wait, wait!" she called out.

"What?" she hissed, stopping but not turning around.

"Make me human!" Tess whined.

"Why should I?" the sorceress growled.

"Because I'm not a mermaid!" the girl answered, glaring at her.

"Oh? And how would you explain the tail?" Sylphide asked, grinning maliciously.

"It's not supposed to be there! Give me back my legs," she begged.

"Oh, very well," the witch said. "Do it yourself, then."

"_What_?"

"You heard me! If you want to be human, change yourself back."

"But h—"

"Stop interrupting!"

Tess was silent and all attention.

"Good. Now, if you want so much to return to that _ghastly_ life you had—"

Tess made a face.

"Well, if that is the life you desire," the sorceress continued, "Find yourself a human man who will love you as you are. Simple."

"As I am?" she asked, her eyes wide with horror.

"Yes, yes, as you are. Scales and all."

"And…" she began apprehensively, worried about the results of speaking further, "And this is the only way?"

"The only way," Sylphide confirmed.

"But if I'm caught…" she whimpered, on the verge of noisy tears again.

"Then you're caught!" the sorceress exclaimed. Then, she added, "Of course, you can be restored somewhat to your human form."

Tess's face brightened.

"Yes?"

"Well, I _can_ make you human by day, is that fair?"

"Oh, yes, yes!" she said, hope rising up in her.

"Very well, then it is settled," she said. "By day, you will be human, and, as soon as the sun goes down, you will turn back into a mermaid. At dawn, you may go on land to become human once more. So it will be for the rest of your life, until you find a human man to love you in both forms."

Tess's expression was a mixture of joy and grief.

"The rest of my life?"

"Oh, yes, girlie," she replied. "You see the hazard, of course."

Tess nodded.

"Yes, yes, it is a bit of a risk. And going back to your family is not an option. They would not tolerate such a creature in their house, would they?"

Tess was ready to protest this, but the witch cut her off.

"No, they wouldn't. Could you imagine being in your father's position with such a strange daughter to take care of? He has enough to worry about without your condition causing him more anxiety. So, find yourself love, and return to them then!"

Tess internally thought that she would first go to her mother for help. Even if her father might find it troubling, her mother would never abandon her in such a situation. No, she would go to her, the witch was wrong. Then she remembered another concern.

"But if I am caught?"

"And not loved as you are, you mean?" Sylphide asked, amused.

"Y-yes."

"Then you are caught. Your chances are most likely ruined for being restored to humanity. I would avoid getting caught if I were you."

Tess nodded her understanding.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, what use are you to me, hanging around here and moping?"

"Then why not let me be fully human?"

"Because I have a bone to pick with your family, shall we say? Oh, and don't go off looking for your brother," she added, as an afterthought. "He won't say a word to you about anything, nor offer you any help. Quite the contrary, he might give you away…"

Tess tacitly agreed.

"Then leave me be, and get yourself to land! The sun will rise in an hour or so and you will probably want to use that to your advantage. Scoot!"

Tess did not need telling twice and she swam towards the opening at the base of the wall, through which faint light was pouring from outside.

Moonlight, for now. But soon the sun would rise, and she might have a new chance to save herself, however slim. It was better than being dead, anyway, she thought trying to cheer herself up.

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Back at the cave, Sylphide watched her awkwardly swim away.

"Stupid girl," she said to herself and smiled. "Lead your mother right to me, go ahead…"


	18. The Gift and the Sacrifice

A/N: Here is where we launch into something new altogether. I hope you enjoy it!

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"So, Anthony, what shall I tell the cook to make for breakfast?" Emma asked, her eyes full of an eagerness to please as she gazed at her son over her folded hands.

"A-anything is fine," he stammered, unused to being the very heart of attention. Even with Sylphide, he had felt neglected somewhat. Here, the entire household seemed to revolve around him. And the girl. His sister…

"You can't imagine what it means, to have one child so miraculously restored to us, just as we have lost another," she had told him sadly on that first carriage ride home.

"Another?" he had asked, hoping that his voice did not betray his knowledge of the subject.

"Yes," his mother had replied with a sigh. "My daughter, Theresa. She was drown—"

Anthony had bent towards her to listen, but she would say no more. Even in the dim light emanating from the king's palace, her eyes had gleamed with horror at the thing she had been just about to pronounce.

"It was only a month ago," his father had explained in hushed tones, placing a comforting arm around Emma. She had whimpered softly at the touch.

"A month," Anthony repeated to himself. It was only a month since he had rescued that girl. She was still alive. If Sylphide hadn't tormented her to death, that is. But the hope was there and he longed to tell them that.

"What are you thinking about?" Emma asked, cutting into his memory. It had been a week since he had come home with them, and Emma refused to let him out of her sight. While Dominic was equally protective, he understood the importance of sometimes being alone and encouraged Emma to remember that. She had no intention of doing such a thing.

"Breakfast!" He blurted out the first thing that came to mind, causing her to laugh gently.

"Then I'll go tell Fanny to make it," Emma said, standing up and leaving his bedroom.

As soon as she had shut the door, Anthony let out a groan and fell back on the bed.

"Why me?" he demanded of the stucco ceiling. "What did I do?"

He couldn't tell these poor people, his own _parents_, for the Gods' sakes, that their daughter and his sister was still alive, for all he knew! He had saved her, had seen her open her eyes, yet couldn't take the credit for it.

And what would become of him? He had less than a year left and, try as he might, Sylphide would surely whisk him back to herself. What a life he would be returning to! Yes, humanity wasn't terribly wonderful, but he had found his family and had no desire to return to the lonely waters that had beaten and bruised his childhood.

"It's not my fault!" he whined, raising his hands, suppliant, towards some unknown deity.

"No, I would agree, it's not," a voice responded, close to his ear. He whirled around and saw a man leaning on his boudoir, arms crossed across his chest and grinning from ear to ear.

"Who are you?" he asked, surprised and somewhat frightened.

"The unknown deity," the man replied, his grin beginning to look more and more smug.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Tess found that she really had made a terrible deal. Perhaps she would have been better off waiting for Andrew or Anthony or whatever the witch had named her brother. At least, then, she might have a guide.

Tess discovered that finding land was no easy task and that finding _Eng_land was even more difficult. She had no notion of where she was and any thought of just taking a ship from whatever port she might discover was quickly dashed because she could not stay on land after the sun went down.

The first shore she spotted was of a small, secluded island. This proved a welcome find, since, after two days of swimming, she was tired and eager to test whether or not the witch from the cave had told the truth.

As she pushed herself up to the shore, she found that her tail seemed to melt away and she was left lying in the sun, but not completely naked, as she had expected. The witch had had that much decency. She was clothed in a simple white frock, which appeared even as her tail disappeared. But that was the only pity the witch had taken on her.

Tess had no sense of where she was and swam miserably about, often for days, without finding any sort of recognizable beach. And she knew the one beach that she was looking for well. It was true, that whenever she was on land during the day she had legs. The question was, what land was she supposed to be on?

Getting spotted by anybody was not an option. Even if some kindly family took a lost and stranded girl into their home in the morning, by nighttime she would have had to flee and she could no longer return to that same town.

And she could never go inland. Thank goodness that her own home was on the shorefront! Although, now even returning home seemed impossible. What use would it be? Coming home for a day, just to go running off that very night? And then, repeating it every single day for the rest of her life, until she might meet a man who would… But that was just it! She could never meet such a man! The pursuit was hopeless. It was all hopeless.

Tess swam languidly that day, not taking much care to notice what she was swimming past or what shore she might reach. Her thoughts were fuzzy and her heart was heavy. She felt no desire to look for shore anymore, only to end it all. She was considering returning to the witch and asking her to end her life. More than a month's solitude and wandering had completely destroyed the spirit of this vivacious girl. Even the sea, which she had loved so much as a child, was no longer welcoming.

So, it was no surprise that as the sun rose that morning and she mournfully raised her head from the waves, her heart nearly stopped to see a familiar beach, littered with grey sand and pebbles, beneath a small plateau, at the head of which was a path leading into a certain garden, all behind a certain chateau.

"Oh!" she had nearly screamed, swimming towards the familiar beach as quickly as possible.

_Home!_

As she washed up on the beach, she nearly tripped over the hem of her frock, which had reappeared. Her wet hair spilled over into her face and her legs ached from disuse, but she disregarded these minor discomforts as she ran up the little sideway, which led to the path.

She did not care who saw her, but there was nobody outside. She wondered at the great fortune of this, for she had no desire to stop and explain to anybody how she had come to be there. She ran towards the house and did not stop until she reached a door that she knew led right into a secret little passage.

Creeping in, she remembered that to get to her own room, she would have to go through Nicholas's room first and she hoped that he was already awake and out of the room. If he was sleeping and she appeared, he might think he was going mad and seeing the spirits of the dead. And she was in no mood to have to calm down her own brother.

She silently closed the door behind the tapestry, which was where the passage led and was padding towards the door into the main hallway and out of Nicholas's room, when she saw the knob turning.

She ducked behind a curtain of the bed and kept very still.

Nicholas walked into the room slowly, his head not held high as it usually was, but lowered, as if in submission. He looked deeply troubled. Tess held her breath, wondering if she should make her presence known. Of course, he would find out in a minute, anyway, he was headed towards the bed.

"Nicky?" she whispered, stepping out from behind the curtain.

"Dear God!" Nicholas moaned, paling vividly and raising his hand to cover his bloodless lips.

"No, no, it's not like that!" she said quickly, rushing to him. "It's me. It's me…"

She embraced him and she felt him tense, then relax under her arms. He had felt that she was warm and far from dead.

"Miracles!" he said softly. "What miracles!"

"Yes, I know," she said, smiling, so happy to be with her beloved brother.

"And…" he hesitated. "Do Mother and Father…"

"No, not yet," she completed his thought.

"Then, we must tell them!"

"Oh, yes, let us!" she exclaimed, happy beyond words.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

They rushed down the stairs together, towards the kitchen, where Nicholas had last seen Emma, giving the cook instructions on breakfast for their guest of honour. Everybody had accepted that Anthony was the child of Lord and Lady de Winter, although, for some strange reason, he himself would not admit it.

Emma had been standing in the kitchen, speaking with the cook, when Helen Mastonne burst into the room.

"Please, my lady, please, I must speak with you!" she begged.

"Good heavens, child, what is the matter?" Emma asked, concerned to see the girl looking so anxious.

"You must know!" Helen murmured, half to herself. "You must let me tell you! Oh, I don't care what the cost is! For you to think that… And while she…!"

"Helen, darling, please, tell me what is the matter?" Now Emma was confused, but also frightened.

"Come away. We must be away from the rest," Helen said, swallowing nervously. "Nobody must see… me." She began to cry with little hiccoughing sobs. Emma took her into a private study on the ground floor and bid her to seat herself on a divan, while she sat opposite to her.

"Please, dear, what is it?"

"Oh, Lady de Winter, don't think ill of me!" she pleaded. "When I tell you, you must help me, as well, all right?"

"Help you with what?"

"With…" Helen vaguely gestured to her feet, which could hardly have gone on supporting her weight, shaking as they were.

"I have slipped away from my father," she said gently, biting back another fit of sobs. "I cannot let Anthony abandon you and I cannot myself let you never know. You must know!"

"Know what, love?" Emma asked gently, brushing back a strand of hair from Helen's sweating brow.

"The…" she could barely form the words. "Anthony," she managed, before again going into near-hysterics.

"What of Anthony?"

"He… he saved her. She is alive."

Emma did not hide the confusion she felt.

"Tess," Helen gasped, before shutting her eyes and moaning in agony.

Emma stood up abruptly.

"Can it be true?" she wondered. But even this wonder paled with what she saw. Before her eyes, Helen seemed to change. A light emanated from her briefly and Emma suddenly saw, shining at the base of her dress, where there had been only a minute ago two neatly-shoed feet, there was now a single golden fin.

She put a hand to her mouth and saw Helen look up anxiously, the pain of the change gone, but her horror at what had happened quite evident in her face, even more than the pain had been.

"I had to let you kno-ow!" she sobbed softly.

"My daughter is alive?" Emma said, trying to at least appreciate the sacrifice Helen had made.

"Yes," she replied dully, trying to sit up straighter on the divan and finding it difficult with a tail.

Something dawned upon Emma.

"Is Anthony under a similar oath?" she asked, suddenly.

Helen nodded. What was the difference now? She could tell her everything.

"My darling child," Emma whispered, her own eyes filled with tears. "You have done something more wonderful than you can imagine for me."

"I had to," Helen said miserably.

"Yes, darling, and I am grateful!" Emma said fiercely, taking Helen's hand in her own. "And I will help you, to the best of my abilities!"

Inside her head, she was running through a hundred different scenarios. She had to get Helen out of here and to the seaside. Very well, what then? She had to change her back somehow. She had done magic before, hadn't she? Yes, she had. She would do it again. This time it was urgent!

"I'll help you, dearest," she told her, kissing her head affectionately. "I'll save you!"

Helen did not know how, but she felt comforted, knowing that she would try.

"For now, we must get you to the w—"

Just then, there was a knocking on the door.

"Mother?" Nicholas's muffled voice said from the other side of the door. "Mother, but this is wonderful! The cook said that you came here…"

Helen shot a frightened glance at Emma, who put a hand out to her to soothe her, then went to the door and opened it a crack.

"Mother, but would you believe it!"

How could Emma do otherwise. There, before her very eyes, stood her darling daughter, smiling, dressed like a veritable angel. And Helen's sacrifice to console her was in vain…

Never has a person felt such joy mixed with such anguish…


	19. Oh, My Gods

"Who are you?" Anthony asked, staring at the young man, who was still smiling.

"My name is Eros. Perhaps you've heard of me?" He held up a bow and a quiver of arrows that he had concealed up until then and laughed when Anthony's jaw dropped.

"So you have heard of me."

"Can it be…? You are truly…?" Anthony didn't know how to respond. Sylphide had educated him about the Gods; he had known no other religion until recently. She had told him that he himself was a God, hadn't she?

"I truly am," Eros replied, taking a deep bow. "And I am here to help you."

"How?" Anthony wondered.

"By helping you destroy my monstrous sister."

Anthony's response was a blank stare.

"That demon that raised you as her own, Sylphide!" Eros exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

"She is your… s-sister?"

"What, didn't she tell you every day that she is a goddess?" he asked sarcastically.

"A few times," Anthony admitted shrugging his shoulders, "But… never like this!"

"Yes, my sister," Eros admitted, coming over to sit down beside Anthony. "The second child of Aphrodite and Ares."

"A _second_?" Anthony asked curiously.

"My parents' relationship is a mess," Eros said, shaking his head disapprovingly. "Yes, I know it's an illegitimate one," he added, in response to Anthony's look, "But anyway… After I was born, Hephaestus, my stepfather, did not take kindly to me at all. But Ares, seeing how strong I was, thought it might be clever of him to father another child by my mother and build his own little army of undefeatable warriors."

"How strong you were?" Anthony wondered aloud. "But you are the God of love."

Eros narrowed his eyes. "Yes, and what of it? That's beside the point. The point is that love is an unconquerable power in war. Ask Paris if you don't believe me. What I am trying to say is that a short while after I was born, Ares seduced my mother again, leading to a second pregnancy and the birth of my sister Sylphide."

Anthony uttered a soft "Oh!" and continued to gape at Eros, waiting for the rest of the story.

"But she wasn't what Ares had expected. She was nothing like me. Her powers were weak and she herself was not quite up to the beauty standards for gods. My stepfather hated her, as did my mother and my father."

Anthony looked troubled. "Then, it is no fault of hers that she wanted my company, or anybody else's, for that matter. She was deprived of love, for no good reason at all!"

"You might be right if that was the reason everyone hated her. But there was another," he said darkly. "She was obsessed with conquering and destruction. Blame it on Ares, if you will, but she was. To a ridiculous degree. Until one day, it went too far."

"What do you mean?"

"She killed one of Zeus's sons, a particularly beloved one, called Andreas. He was a demigod, but still young, and had no hope of reaching Mount Olympus after Sylphide was through with him."

"But… why?"

"Who knows?" Eros shrugged again. "All we knew was that Andreas was dead, Sylphide was responsible, and Zeus was in a rage. She challenged him, then and there, and he exiled her to live out eternity on earth, away from mortals that she may not hurt them."

Anthony shook his head and his black hair fell in his eyes.

"No, no, no, that's not possible. Then how did she get to me? To my father? To Helen, even! If she wasn't allowed to be in contact with mortals…"

"How indeed?" Eros said, nodding. "She did something. We don't know what and nobody wants to bother figuring it out, as she hasn't hurt anybody."

"I protest! She must certainly _has_ hurt--!"

"I know, I know," Eros said, waving his hand, trying to shush Anthony. "That's why I've come. I want to know how she got to that girl in the first place. Then, to your parents and to you."

"What girl? Helen?"

"No, there was another one, before you."

"But…" Anthony had often asked himself this question. "Why the sea?"

"That's how Zeus condemned her to be separate from mortals. Banishment to the middle of the Atlantic, in the earlier days, was akin to being swept off of the face of the earth. But now, with ships, well… At least, that is my suspicion."

"Why can't Zeus step in, if he knows that she is able to reach people now?"

"He doesn't care very much. None of them do. They are all too busy lamenting the fact that they have lost their credibility among mortals and have no desire to do anything that might help them," Eros said with a derisive snort.

"And you want to help?" Anthony wondered.

"Yes," Eros said. "Because mortals have never stopped believing in me. I owe them that much."

"I don't understand," Anthony said simply. "Nobody here worships any of the gods anymore and…"

"Well, they have a "scientific" explanation for almost everything now. But love is still a mystery to them, and they like it that way," he said, smiling, almost to himself.

Anthony had to admit that this was true.

"But why can't you destroy her by yourself? You are a god, after all!" Anthony mused.

"So are you," Eros said, shrugging yet again. Anthony furrowed his brow. "And a lot of good that does either of us. She's tapped some unreserved strength she never had before, which neither I nor anybody else can break."

Suddenly, Anthony gasped loudly. He had spoken of Sylphide to somebody. Surely this meant that…!

"No, you're safe. I don't count," Eros said, putting a perfect hand on the boy's shoulder. "She only meant other mortals, she wasn't expecting anybody of my caliber to come along. For now, I've been shielding this conversation as best from her sight as I can, but, as Isaid, she's become extremely powerful somehow. I don't quite know how."

"But you say that I am a god…?" he asked cautiously.

"Demigod, whatever you want to call it!"

"How exactly is that possible?" he asked, wondering about his parents, the Lord and Lady de Winter.

"Well, that's the very thing that Sylphide might be able to tell us," Eros sighed, throwing up his hands, "Because I have no idea!"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Emma knew that she had to keep her wits about her, but the events unfolding before her were surely going to drive her mad in a few moments.

"Helen!" she whispered.

The girl raised her golden head and looked up mournfully into her face.

"Yes?"

"We have to get you into water, don't we?"

Helen nodded, but she looked as though she was going to burst into tears yet again.

"I have a private bathroom. I can take you there for now, very well?"

Helen could only bury her face in her hands, her cheeks a bright crimson from embarrassment.

"Yes, that's what I'll do," she said to herself. "But first…"

There was still knocking on the door.

"Mother! Mother, it's me!"

"It's all right, Mother, it's Tess, it really is!"

Her children's muffled voices came from the other side of the door, which she had shut almost instantly after having seen Tess. How to get them away from Helen? Unless…

She opened the door and slipped out of the room, without letting either see into it, where Helen was still stretched out on the sofa.

"My darling child!" she murmured, taking her daughter's chin in one hand, while keeping the other fixed on the doorknob.

"Mother!" Tess exclaimed, embracing her fiercely. "I must tell you something! In private!" she urged.

"Nicholas?" Emma said, her heart beating quickly. She hoped that this would work. If not, then…

"Yes, Mother?" He was still beaming, and looking often at his sister.

"Miss Helen Mastonne is in the room there, and she is unwell. Would you be so kind as to carry her to my bedroom?"

A muffled cry came from inside the room.

"Yes, Mother, of course," Nicholas said, but his expression was that of a very puzzled individual.

"Thank you," she said, still nervously biting her lip.

She opened the door with a shaking hand, where Helen was lying, her eyes wide with horror to see Nicholas and Tess at the door. She was amazed to see the girl, but more so terrified that Emma should betray her secret like this.

Yet, Nicholas, as he walked in and gently picked her up, did not take notice of her gold fin. It was as if it was not even there.

"Are you feeling better, Miss Mastonne?" he asked, concern on his face.

She nodded once, her eyes still wide.

Tess did not seem to notice the fact that she had a tail, either. As for Emma, she was standing, her eyes firmly closed, muttering something under her breath.

Nicholas crossed the threshold and carried her up the stairs and out of sight. Tess followed him with his glance and then turned to her mother, who was still whispering something inaudible.

"Mother?" Tess asked nervously.

Emma's eyes flew open and she stared at her daughter, who looked so very beautiful, but extremely nervous.

"Yes, love?"

"I am in terrible trouble—" she began to say, but Nicholas was already coming down the stairs and she hushed instantly.

"I put her on your bed, I hope you don't mind," he said gently, coming towards his mother and sister.

"Thank you, Nicholas. I'll go see to her quickly and I will return."

She lifted her skirts and walked towards her own room, even as Tess called out, anxiously, "Wait!"

"What is it darling?"

"Mother, I must tell you something!" she urged.

"In a minute, dear, in a minute," she said, trying to calm both herself and her frantic daughter.

Things being what they were with Helen, Emma did not know if she could hear any more bad news from Tess right now.


	20. The Dilemma

Tess nearly screamed in her frustration as her mother took off.

"What's the matter?" Nicholas said, going to her and putting his arms around her shoulders.

"She…"

"She doesn't seem happy? She's in shock, no doubt, Tess. After all that's happened…"

"What, that I've returned?" she wondered.

"Yes, but also… Anthony."

"Who? Wait…"

"Your, ummm," he started, not knowing how to soften the blow. "Your brother."

"That Anthony!"

"You knew about him?" Nicholas asked, perplexed.

"I…"

"How did you survive, Tess?"

"I almost didn't," she said, looking at him, still frightened.

"But you did!" Nicholas exclaimed.

Tess stared off into space, uncertain whether she should tell her brother or not. Surely, he would…

"You did, right?" he asked, suddenly frightened.

"In a manner of speaking," she answered slowly.

"What is that supposed to—"

"Can it be?" another voice resounded from the top of the stairs. They looked up to see Anthony standing there, his mouth open from shock.

Tess took a step back to steady herself.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"Where else am I supposed to be?" he responded, evading the question.

"Not in my house!" she growled.

"Tess—"

"Theresa, thank you very much! And perhaps Miss de Winter would do, from you!"

"Very well, Miss de Winter," he acquiesced.

"That's better," she said, crossing her arms.

"How do you know that this is Tess?" Nicholas said, interrupting the exchange.

"Sh… she looks like Lady de Winter so much!" he quickly lied.

Tess continued to stare at him. He had saved her, what? And now she was left in this desperate situation. All because he had taken her to _Mother_. She wanted more than anything to attack him at that very moment, and make him as miserable as she had been.

"Tess, darling, I am sorry," Emma exclaimed, coming down after Anthony and smiling weakly. She looked exhausted.

"Mama!" Tess exclaimed, launching herself into her mother's open arms.

Emma wept to have her child in her arms again, to feel her heart beat against her own.

"Tess," she said, looking down into the tear-stained face of her daughter, "What is it you wanted to tell me?"

"I wanted to explain how I was saved," she said quietly, hoping that neither of her brothers would hear.

"And?" Emma prompted, stroking her hair.

Tess looked furtively about her, and begged her mother to come into the study and shut the door. To Nicholas's protests, she put out a hand and said that she would explain later.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Well, now that you know the history," Eros concluded, "I really must go."

"But what about—?"

"Later, Anthony, later," Eros said, winking and disappearing.

"Oh, fantastic! More secrets!" Anthony said, falling back onto his bed, until he heard footsteps from outside of his room.

"Well, what could that be?" he wondered to himself and went to investigate. There, at the bottom of the stairs, stood his sister, the girl he had condemned, quite accidentally, to a life as a mermaid. Except that she was standing on legs…

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Mother, I don't know what happened after I fell in," Tess was whispering hurriedly. "But then I woke up. And there was Anthony!"

"You know about him?" Emma asked.

"Well, now I do. At the time, I thought I was going crazy and seeing a younger version of Papa."

"Mm, the resemblance is remarkable, yes?"

"Extremely! But, that is beside the point. You see, in addition to that, I also saw something that had not been there when I fell in."

"What was that?"

Tess hesitated.

"A mermaid's tail. I had a _mermaid's tail_," she whispered quickly, terrified that the two boys might be listening at the door. They were, in fact, doing just that. Her last remark was not audible, and while Anthony knew what she had said, Nicholas had no idea.

Emma stared.

"Yes, I know," Tess blushed. "But I begged her to make me normal again. How I begged her!"

"And she—"

"Said that she would! But only during the day."

"And so, at night, you will…"

"Yes."

Emma was silent, and Nicholas had his face screwed up in concentration, trying to puzzle out the snippets of words he caught. Anthony was horrified at what he heard. What a terrible double life to lead…

"Always?" Emma asked, with the faintest tremor in her voice.

"Until… until I should find a man to love me as I am," she said sadly.

"Oh!"

Nicholas stood back from the door and looked at Anthony, who looked absolutely horrified.

"What can they mean?" he whispered to his brother.

Anthony could only shake his head and stagger back from the door. He had heard enough to realize that he had condemned his own sister to a life that would be absolutely worthless and miserable.


	21. Victory?

"You'll stay until tonight, then?" Emma asked, after she had processed everything she had been told.

"I have to leave before sunset," Tess replied, her head in her hands. Suddenly, her head shot up.

"Don't tell Father!" she begged.

"Oh, my Tessie, he will be more understanding than you think," she consoled her.

"I don't want him to know. I don't want _anybody_ to know!"

"Other than me?"

"Well, yes, other than you," Tess admitted.

"And Anthony?"

"What?" she asked. "Why would he know?"

"I think he might have figured it out," Emma replied, raising her eyebrows.

"It's his fault to begin with," she complained.

"From what I understand, he saved your life."

"So?" she challenged, pouting like a small child.

"No matter, my darling girl," Emma changed the subject. "We'll make it all better. I have already helped one poor girl today, as best I could. Her name is Helen and if you see her tonight," Emma registered the shock on Tess's face. "Yes, if you should see her tonight, tell her that I will have both of you safe and back on land as soon as possible. I think I have a score to settle with this… monster. Does she have a name?"

"I don't know," Tess admitted honestly.

"We'll find out," Emma said, nodding. "As for now, we must celebrate your return!"

"Maybe if we didn't make a fuss…?"

"No, it won't be a fuss, just a small little party in your honour. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes!"

"And we will find this man, the one who can help you. I also thought I would never find a man who could love me as I was," Emma reminisced.

"What do you mean?" Tess wondered.

"I never cared to tell you that before I met your father, I was a servant in my stepmother's household, sleeping amidst the cinders and never rising from my knees as I scrubbed all of the floors."

"Mother!" Tess exclaimed, perceiving her in something like a new light.

"Well," Emma waved it off, "All that is past now. Those who might have hurt me then are dead, and their ghosts are not coming back to haunt us…"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sylphide, standing in her cave, looked absolutely delighted as she peered into the mirror to see Emma speaking with Tess.

"…their ghosts are not coming back to haunt us…"

"Are you so sure about that, Lady de Winter?" Sylphide said with a monstrous smile, which showed her strangely pointed teeth. "Quite sure?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Later that day, just as the sun was beginning to set, Tess slipped out of the house. Her reunion with her father had been a joyous one, and Dominic had thought that he might die of happiness, knowing that his two children were returned to him. However, true to her word, Emma kept her promise and did not tell him of Tess's secret; instead, she made up a lie about Tess needing sleep and sent her to her room, whence Tess slipped out when nobody was looking.

She ran down to the beach and found an isolated spot. After having checked several times that nobody was around, she slipped off her velvet gown (which she had donned upon returning to her home) and hid it among a patch of rocks. Then, she walked into the water, wincing at the unpleasant sensation of legs being turned into a tail.

She looked back at her family's chateau, whose windows were just now being lit with candles. They seemed to wink at her, inviting her to go home for the night and sleep in a warm, soft bed, for once. But, if that was the case, then they were mocking her. She could not sleep in a bed, ever again, unless she should find someone. Somebody… She started to hum to herself, a wordless little melody, quite sad, and she floated on her back, still looking at her home, not moving as rapidly as she should have, considering the fact that she was still in the shallows and it was not completely dark.

"A man who will love me as I am," she thought to herself. She looked at her golden tail, which practically glowed in the light of dusk. "And why shouldn't a man love me as I am? Am I not equally as beautiful now? Am I not still the same pers—"

Her thoughts were brought to a standstill when she floated right into somebody.

_Oh, NO!_

Petrified, she turned around and quickly pulled her tail farther down into the murky water. She had hoped and prayed that it might be Helen, whom her mother had told her about and who was probably still in these waters.

No such luck.

Standing in the water, which came up to his waist, was a handsome young man. _Very_ handsome. He had blonde hair that spilled over his forehead in ringlets, and the most brilliant grey eyes. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought Apollo himself was standing before her. But that was the very crux of the problem. He was _standing_.

"You startled me!" Tess complained, (even though she was in no position to complain), folding her arms across her nearly bare chest, out of modesty.

"I'm sorry," the stranger said, staying where he was. "I'm a bit startled myself."

"Don't come closer!" she squealed, trying to pull further into herself. It was not yet completely dark, and she couldn't risk anybody seeing her like this. A scrap of sunlight could give her away.

"I'm not," he replied crossly.

"W-what are you doing, swimming out here, by yourself, at night, anyway?" she managed to ask, after ascertaining that he was not coming nearer and it was getting darker.

"I might ask you the same question," was his sarcastic reply.

"I asked first!" Tess exclaimed, almost eager for an argument with this impertinent young man.

"Well, I saw you change and I thought you might—"

"You what?" she shrieked, suddenly terrified. All of her worst fears were confirmed.

"No, it's not like that, Miss." He was anxious to calm her, but she could not respond, in her fear.

"What do you want from me?" she moaned, finally.

"Your help," he mumbled, flushing crimson.

Tess's fear melted into surprise.

"With what, exactly?"

The young man continued to blush and said nothing.

"Well, what is it?" she pressed.

"Ahm…" he began and, not knowing how to finish, gave up speaking and gestured weakly to something next to him in the water.

"What!" Tess exclaimed, looking closer and recognizing the glint of scales.

"So, you see," he interrupted her before she could speak again, "We're birds of a feather. Or.,. Mmm…" He once again lapsed into silence, grinning sheepishly at his own half-joke.

"How?" she wondered. "I didn't think that there were any—"

"Others?" he finished for her.

"Well, yes!"

"Did _she_ tell you that?"

"Who?"

"That witch. Sylphide."

Tess bit her lip. That was the creature's name, then.

"Did she do this to you?"

The stranger started to roll his eyes, but did not continue, out of deference for the concerned girl in front of him.

"She did," he affirmed.

"Why? And when?" she asked. "Surely not before me…" she added, to herself.

"Only a few weeks ago," he replied. Then, frowning, " I think. It's hard to tell without a watch and calendar."

"But why?" she pressed.

The young man massaged his temple and then extended his hand to Tess.

"My name is Victor," he said brightly.

"That doesn't answer my question," Tess said with a scowl, ignoring his outstretched hand.

"You're not exactly polite," he observed. "I'll tell you why once we're properly introduced. So…" he prompted.

"Theresa," she mumbled, as if begrudging him the knowledge of her name.

Victor smiled and took her hand in his own.

"Theresa," he repeated. "Well, then, I'll keep my word. Only," he raised a shoulder, "Can we go somewhere farther…" he gestured with a hand in the direction of the open water.

"Oh! Yes, of course!"

A/N: Another character… This is getting complex! Don't worry, I know how to tie up all the loose ends. This is going somewhere! Many thanks to my reviewers. I would appreciate it if you could leave me a word or two if you read this and enjoy it! (Oh, and I am already anticipating that most people won't like my omission of a reunion between Dominic and Tess. I wasn't sure how I wanted to do it, so I left it up in the air; I may change this in rewrites. Plus, it is 4 am, and I have a philosophy class in a few hours!)

Much love to all,

Titania


	22. The Young Duke and the Prince's Daughter

The two settled down onto the sand, deep under the water, far from the shore.

"Now, will you tell me why she did this to you?" Tess demanded instantly, turning to Victor.

He heaved a sigh and tossed his hair back slightly, as if preparing for a long story.

"Sylphide deeply injured a dear friend of mine. I went to Sylphide to avenge the injury and I failed in my purpose, so here I am, like this." He settled back, balancing on his palms, and grinning wickedly at Tess.

Tess looked unhappy. "What, that's it? That can't be it!"

"Were you expecting something longer?"

"Yes!"

"Well, I'm sorry, but I am going to have to disappoint you, Theresa."

"Miss de Winter," she snapped, crossing her arms, severely disappointed in her newfound friend.

"De Winter?" he said with wonder. "Really?"

"Yes, really!"

"I'm sorry, I just didn't think I might ever meet… Wow."

"What does my name mean to you?" she asked, also curious.

"It's just that… No, I can't say."

"Why not?" Tess whined. Her curiousity would never be satisfied, she feared.

"My mother wouldn't like me to say anything, I think," he said by way of reply, avoiding the question and silencing her before she could speak again. "Because I think you might be able to take it back to your human family. Which brings me to my question: How are you able to go back to your human family?"

"Did you follow me?" she demanded.

"About two weeks ago, I saw you step into the water off of a coast and change into, well, you know…" he trailed off, but then began again. "It was pure chance that I saw you, but I didn't want to frighten you. You seemed so upset. And now, I saw you do the same thing here and I…"

"It's her doing, Victor, though I fear it won't bring me any good," she answered the unasked question.

"What do you mean?" He was confused. "How could a pair of legs not do you any good?" He blushed at his own remark, but she was quick to answer.

"I can only be human in the daytime; at night, I must return to the water, or I will change back, regardless of where I am."

He could only stare at her.

"What, _always_?" he gasped.

"Until…" Tess began sadly, but cut herself off. "Wait, I am not going to tell you anything until you answer some of my questions!"

"Palace brat," Victor accused her, grinning.

"I'm sorry that we can't all be commoners!" she replied, shocked at his accusation. She hadn't even been raised in a palace! "And I wasn't even raised in a palace!"

Victor rolled his eyes. "But your father is a prince."

"Not really!"

"Oh?"

"He abdicated his throne, everybody knows that," she said, smug.

"Even so…" Victor was not done with his private joke. "He was once quite the eligible bachelor, especially because he was the prince."

"Irrelevant!" Tess cried, frustrated, and prepared to swim away.

"Look, I'm sorry, Miss de Winter," he said humbly, letting all traces of his smirk melt away. "I have no right to tease. I myself am something of a palace brat."

"You?" she wheeled around and brushed away his hand from her shoulder, where it had settled.

"Duke Victor Everline, at your service," he said softly, sweeping the closest thing to a bow possible for a merman.

"The Everlines!" she exclaimed.

"Well, I see my name is familiar to you as well," he commented.

"No, no, Your Grace, it's only that—"

"Oh, don't you start as well!" he groaned. "I've had enough 'Your Grace' s to last me a lifetime and then some!"

"The duchy has already passed to you?" she wondered. Strange, she thought his father was still alive. "But, your father is more of a prince, anyway, so…"

"Exactly," Victor said, nodding. "It's a principality. He is the prince, I am merely a duke. Technically, also a prince, but…"

"But to avoid confusion."

"Yes."

"So, what right did you have teasing me?" she demanded suddenly.

"None, I admitted to that!" he said, surrendering without much prompting.

"Ugh," she finally said, disgusted by the state of affairs. "What was the prince of Monetto doing challenging crazy sea witches?"

"Duke," he amended. "And I had to. She had irreparably hurt a dear friend of my family's, the Lady Celeste Fontaine, perhaps you've heard of her?"

Tess shook her head, though the name sounded vaguely familiar.

"Well, she was ailing and when asked, she would say nothing. Until we realized that she had somehow become mute. Isn't that terrible?" he asked her.

Tess recalled Sylphide's threat to take away her own tongue and gulped nervously.

"But she managed to write a name and a general idea that she had been wronged. It was so dreadfully messy and damned difficult to read that everybody else gave up trying to make sense of it. But Lady Celeste had been a second mother to me, and I studied her scribbles for a month until I understood the words. The name 'Sylphide' and something like, 'Silenced me,' was written there. Nothing more. I though to challenge this Sylphide and perhaps learn more of Lady Celeste's illness. It was strange, because if she avoided the subject of her silence and her past, she was perfectly healthy. As soon as she tried to communicate or write about anything else… Well, you know what a brain fever looks like…"

"So you decided to go after Sylphide," Tess whispered, biting her nails in anxiety at the story.

"I did. I set out in my yacht that day, alone, after a few hints from local fishermen, but just as I was wondering aloud to my self where I was to find somebody called Sylphide (I had a general direction, not a specific location), I found myself suddenly in some sort of storm and then, in a cave, in front of her. I accused her of hurting Lady Celeste—I recognized her for what she was—but she only laughed and said that I had no idea how, but would I like to know? She would return Celeste's voice, she said, but only if I was willing to make a sacrifice…"

"You couldn't have known," Tess sympathized, patting his shoulder.

"Perhaps it's for the better."

"How can you say that?"

"Well, otherwise, I might never have met you."

Tess blushed.

"Don't blush, milady, not in front of me," Victor said quickly. "It won't do to have me fall in love with you so quickly, for you look every bit the rose when your cheeks are so pink."

"It's too dark," she muttered, flattered, but continued to blush. "But… your own family?" she quickly said, breaking the stare between them and changing the subject.

"I don't know. I can't very well come back," Victor said, shrugging. "And I didn't want all of that, anyway. To be honest, I hated being Duke. And at least Lady Celeste can speak again and won't be ill anymore."

"That was very noble, Your Grace," she said quietly.

"How do you know it wasn't selfish?" he asked her.

"You are too sincere to be selfish."

"You don't know that, Miss de Winter."

"Perhaps not," she said, "But you remind me of my older brother Nicholas, somewhat, and he is far too sincere to be selfish."

"You have not yet told me how you have come to be in this predicament, milady."

Tess realized that she had gotten his story, but had not given her own.

"Tomorrow?" she promised weakly. "I am very tired and it is a long story."

"So I will see you tomorrow?" he asked, a strange tone in his voice.

"Every night," Tess affirmed. "I'm going to go now, and sleep," she said suddenly.

Victor stared into her eyes, trying to read something in there. Tess had no idea what, she was only sixteen!

"You shouldn't joke about things like love," she blurted out, unnerved, and then swam off back towards the shore, where she knew a small grotto by the beach, perfectly hidden.

"I wasn't joking," Victor said to her retreating back, looking down at his hands.

A/N: Apologies for the space between updates. But, really, I might appreciate a few more reviews. I am, of course, indebted to my regular reviewers! Much love to all of my readers!

Titania


	23. Ida

Ida had been a fool to love a fool like that, she would later understand. Andreas was selfish, a nobody, and he certainly didn't care for her. And she thought that he would be overjoyed to inform his father of their engagement. Ha!

When Andreas began to ignore her and, eventually, altogether stopped speaking with her, she grew angry. What right did he have, spurning her like that? She was a full goddess, after all, while he was nothing but a demi-god! When she saw him walking on the beach one day with some Grecian hussy, she simply could not tolerate it. The girl had died, and so had Andreas. Even Ida did not know how she had done it, for the wave that had sent rocks crashing against both of their bodies had been immense. Ida did not know she had power like that…

Zeus did not care how it was done, though. He only cared that Ida had done it. "She must be punished," he told the others, who made no protests. Nobody cared very much for Ida; she was cruel and unpleasant, in their opinions.

Ida had tried—Gods above, but she had tried!—and found her efforts to explain to be in vain. Nobody would believe that a glorious creature such as Andreas could find anything to interest him in the (comparatively) plain Sylphide. Nobody wanted to think that the beloved son of Zeus could care for the hated, illegitimate daughter of Aphrodite and Ares.

So she had been exiled.

"Live among the water, for you use the water to kill!" Zeus had said acidly, spitting in her face with the effort of placing as much malice as possible into the curse. And what a curse it was…

She was sealed off from the world. The dark of the cave seemed never-ending. There was no exit, no door that led out. Only walls and the inky blackness, and the smell of salt that never ceased.

For years, she searched for a way out. Finally, she managed to make a dent in the bottom of the wall, under the water. Steadily, she enlarged it, until she was able to get through. A thousand years had passed since her exile began.

She searched for land, but saw nothing. Swimming was impossible over such a distance, and she found herself trapped, even though she had reached the surface. Her abilities were weak, and she could not return herself to Mount Olympus.

Ida had been bitter for a long time. The punishment was unjust. She had been wrong, but it had been an accident, first of all, and second, surely it did not merit this torture! She cursed the Heavens, which seemed to mock her every time she treaded water above the cave.

And what of Andreas? He had been handsome, yes, but had he loved her? She regretted killing him, and not only because of her punishment. Centuries passed, until, quite unexpectedly, a ship passed overhead, just as Sylphide was coming out of the cave to look at the sky.

_A ship! Out here!_

She swam up, if only to stare at the amazing sight, the welcome sight of faces, when somebody spotted her. A young man, to be precise.

"A mermaid!" he called out in amazement to his companions, pointing to her. Ida frowned. She had no tail and she was not to be mistaken for those foolish, empty-headed nymphs. Besides, they had all abandoned the ocean, to seek the warmer waters of the Mediterranean Sea.

The ship floated closer, but she did not move. She was intrigued by the man who had spotted her.

"Help!" she called weakly, wondering if that would work.

The men lowered a boat and the first rowed closer to where she was floating.

"Miss?" he asked gently, realizing that this was not a mermaid, just a poor, drowning girl.

"Oh, sir, I thank you!" she answered in his own language, as they raised her into the boat and were headed back towards the ship.

"What are you doing out here?" he wondered, staring at her.

"I was cruelly abandoned here," she said, lying by omission.

"Miss, we are returning to England. Judging by your speech, I must assume that you are of that country, as well? We will return you to your family!"

"Oh, no, sir," she pleaded. "They did this to me. I would just as well remain out of their reach."

"Very well, Miss," he replied, trying not to make it obvious that he was staring. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Ida was shocked to realize that he thought this, for she could hear his thoughts.

"I guess even a plain goddess can be mistaken for a beautiful human," she thought to herself.

"What is your name, milady?" the sailor asked.

"S—Sophia," she corrected, trying to suit her own name to something that he would consider normal.

"Miss Sophia," the young man bowed. "I am Lord Timothy de Winter."

A/N: Have I confused everyone yet? More explanation soon! I just felt I had to put this up, as it is really a key of the whole story. By the way, pronounce "Ida" as "Eeda", a sort of nickname for Sylphide.

Much love,

Titania


	24. Sophia

Ida was not entirely powerless and it seemed that she didn't have much to do, anyway. As far as mortals go, Timothy was particularly weak. He was burning for her a week after she was found, and by the time they came into the port in England, three weeks later, he was already on one knee and proposing. This served Ida well enough.

She was soon Lady de Winter. People admired her beauty, but her origins were always a source of wonder. Lord de Winter admired her blindly, and was overjoyed when she gave birth to their first child, a handsome boy they called Maximilian.

Ida was especially pleased with the child. She had a plan in mind, and children were at the heart of it, after all. She would return to Mount Olympus. She herself was weak, but if she had the assistance of other gods—or demigods—she could gain enough power to make her triumphant return. Especially now, when the gods were no longer worshipped as they once had been.

A second child was born the year after, and they called him Edward. Ida was quite content, living with her adoring husband and raising her children, until she realized, when the boys were 9 and 10, respectively, that they had absolutely no potential. She had not given them any sort of godlike abilities. They were merely mortals. True, Edward showed a tiny amount of potential, but that one incident may have been chance, and she was not willing to risk everything on accident.

So, one day, she left her little family, disillusioned and disappointed. She decided that she would go to Europe, where she might find another husband, produce another child, that might help her reach her goal. She never expected the years with de Winter to catch up with her.

She lived for a while in Paris, displeased with her prospects and rather depressed about her fate in general. She had found another wealthy husband, but had no children by him, after five years, and left the house without a word of farewell. Disguising herself, she continued to live in Paris, but was subject to a dreadful depression that consumed her steadily. She feared she would never return to her home, and never have her revenge.

One night, at a masque, she overheard the name of an English gentleman being announced at the door. She did not catch the first name, but the last name was quite clear.

"..de Winter!"

Startled, she looked up, expecting to see one of her sons. But no, it was neither. Merely a rather thin-looking young boy, where her sons would have been considerably older, by now. She wondered whether it might have been a cousin, until she realized that, by this time, it might very well be her own grandchild.

Interested, she made her way across the ballroom to the place where the de Winter boy was standing, awkwardly trying to speak with the many lovely women who swept past him, ignoring his requests for a dance in favour of better-fed, less pale suitors.

"Are you called de Winter?" Ida asked, sweeping in next to him.

He turned his eyes to the lovely woman, who was looking at him with an arched eyebrow, appraising his features. Yes, he was probably her grandson, for he had many of her own characteristics.

"I am," he replied, somewhat nervously.

"What is your Christian name?"

"Frederick," the boy said softly, bowing.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Emma!" Dominic called the next morning, rushing towards her and nearly knocking her over.

"What? What is it?" she asked, waking up, bewildered.

"Tess is missing! She wasn't in her room, nor was she anywhere else in the castle!"

"Dominic, it's all right," Emma soothed. "She went down to the beach."

"Father, were you looking for me?"

Tess stood in the doorway, her own eyes wide with innocence, trying to draw her father's eyes away from her dripping-wet hair.

"Where were you, Tess?" he asked wearily, sitting down on the bed.

"I was out. Swimming."

"_What_?" he nearly exploded. "After what happened, you still want to go swimming?"

"It calms me," she lied. She couldn't tell him yet.

"Heavens, child, find another way to calm yourself." He smiled, nevertheless, and took her in his arms, after standing up again.

"I'll try," she lied again, looking over Dominic's shoulder at her mother.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

After Dominic left, Tess slipped into her mother's bed and her arms.

"You're cold," Emma complained, grimacing.

"Don't tease," Tess scolded.

"Well, did you see Helen last night?" Emma was once again serious, all traces of humour gone from her face.

"No," Tess replied sleepily. "But I did learn the name of the sorceress!" she suddenly remembered.

"Did you? What is it?"

"Syl-phide," Tess replied, through a yawn.

"Did you say 'Sophie'?" Emma asked, something piquing her interest.

"No, 'Sylphide'," Tess said, more clearly this time.

"Oh. That name means nothing to me."

"Who is Sophie?"

"My paternal grandmother. She was rumoured to be quite a beauty, but she died or left or something when my father was only ten."

"Well, I'm sure that you don't have a grandmother who is a witch!" Tess exclaimed, sitting up and staring at her mother, who was still thinking about something.

"Who knows? It would explain… certain things…"


	25. Two Heroes

"How do you kill a goddess?" Anthony asked Eros, the second time the latter appeared in his room on the following day. This was not preceded by a hello, a welcome, or any form of invitation.

"Rude," Eros accused, crossing his arms petulantly and sitting next to Anthony on the little divan in the corner.

"Well?" Anthony prompted.

"You don't," the other answered.

"What do you mean? Then how do we—"

"I don't know. Honestly, the Titans were a breeze to conquer, from what I hear, compared to what this is going to be."

"I thought you said she was nearly powerless!" Anthony exclaimed.

"Yes, exactly. She _was_. Not anymore."

"Oh."

Eros nodded gravely. Then, he turned to a lighter note.

"So, I see that your sister has returned!"

"Ugh!" Anthony groaned, letting his head fall into his hands.

"You aren't happy?"

"_She _isn't happy!" a muffled voice whined. "And it's my fault that she can't be happy."

"Well, I would have blamed it on Ida, but—"

"Who?"

"Ida. Sylphide."

"Oh. Well, no, it's my fault. Entirely! If I had listened to Helen, and taken her back to shore—"

"She would not have survived," Eros said simply. "Now, about Helen…"

"What about Helen?" Anthony eyed the god suspiciously. There was something unpleasant about his tone.

"Have you had any news from her, recently?"

"No…"

"There is a reason for that."

"What did I do this time?" Anthony asked miserably.

"Nothing that you did. She, ah, _sacrificed_ herself, shall we say? She went to your Lady mother and told her everyth—"

"No!" Anthony had jumped up and was now pacing the room, anxiously wringing his hands. "Where is she now? Do you know, Eros? Surely you do…"

"The sea, of course," he replied, not perturbed by this development.

"You're not upset!" Anthony accused, looking absolutely miserable.

"No, of course not."

Anthony shot him a dirty look, then continued to pace.

"Because I know how to undo the damage."

Eros smiled to see Anthony turn his head slowly towards him. He loved bringing people to this level of anxiety and then calming them down just as quickly.

"Well?" Anthony demanded.

"Simple. We do a similar spell on Helen that has been placed upon your sister. If a human loves her, then she will also become a human. I can't directly undo Sylphide's spell, but this will be equally painless."

"You're so sure you will find this human man?" Anthony asked, somewhat embarrassed.

"Oh, you're not fooling anyone!" Eros said, rolling his eyes. "You, of course."

"She will be fine?"

"We can go now, if you'd like. I've already done the deed, and now you just have to tell her you love her. Simple!"

Anthony turned a lovely shade of red, which did not at all compliment his features.

"I should mention," Eros said, seeing Anthony's face, "That I might have let an arrow of mine, or two, slip in your direction."

"Was it a mistake?" Anthony asked, still blushing.

"Not in the least. Quite pre-meditated. Now… Your lady awaits!"

And with that, the two disappeared from Anthony's bedroom.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

They reappeared on the beach at the base of the chateau, where Eros shook Anthony's hand, wished him luck, and disappeared before Anthony could ask him where he was supposed to find Helen.

Frustrated, he dropped onto the sand and sat there for a while, staring out at sea. An hour must have passed, when he heard a female voice call his name.

"Tony?"

"Helen!"

The boy ran into the water, where he saw the golden hair of his beloved surrounding her like a heavenly cloud.

"Oh, Tony, I thought I might never see you again," she murmured, as he embraced her.

"My poor Helen," he whispered. "Why did you do this?"

"Your mother needed to know about Sylphide, and about Tess."

"But Tess came back!"

"Yes, but that was after I had already spoken and…"

"Oh, it doesn't matter!" he exclaimed, happy in the knowledge that he could help her.

"What can you mean?" she asked, pulling away, bewildered and angry. "Of course it matters! Just look at me!" She said nothing else but dissolved into sobs.

"Yes, I am looking, Helen, and what of it? My dearest friend, my _only_ friend for years."

"But now, just a stranger and an undesirable companion," she said through her tears.

"Why must you say that, Helen?"

"Isn't it true?"

"No. It couldn't be true."

"But you're still human," she wailed, "And I'm…"

"Still Helen."

With that, he decided to give up trying to be reserved and act as Eros had told him to.

He placed his hand on the back of her head and kissed her gently.

Bewildered by the sudden reappearance of her legs, she looked up at him and grasped his shoulders for balance.

"Tony? How?"

"I love you, Helen. The God of Love himself as my witness, I love you."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Meanwhile, Tess, who had woken from a lovely nap and gotten dressed again, was wondering what she was going to do with the two hours she had until she was obliged to go back. She walked out of the room and down the corridor, but as she passed an old little room, she heard a faint voice issuing from it that sounded like her mother's.

"No, Dominic, I must go!" the voice, which became more pronounced as Tess walked in, proclaimed.

"And I say that I will not let you!" her father answered, frustrated and exasperated.

"What about poor Helen?"

_Why is she telling him this_? Tess wondered.

"What about our daughter?" she said in an undertone, at which Dominic turned white as a sheet.

"What _about_ our daughter?" he suddenly inquired.

"She… she is also in danger."

Dominic said nothing. He had suspected as much.

"She did not want me to tell you, but—"

"But it had to be done," Tess interrupted, opening the door completely and coming inside.

"Tess, what does she mean?" Dominic said, a note of pleading in his voice.

"I am cursed to be a mermaid," she said softly, lowering her eyes.

Dominic flinched at the word, but then recovered himself and asked her, "But how can that be, if you are not at all like that right now?"

"Because it is only during the day that I am human. At night, when the sun goes down, I must leave land."

His head was reeling. He felt that he must be going mad. His daughter was a _mermaid_? What's more, there was this other girl to worry about. And Emma wanted to go after the sorceress that had broken their family in the first place.

"Do you understand now, why I must go?" Emma asked gently, taking her husband's shaking hands in her own.

"Yes," he admitted. "I will go with you."

"No." It was not a request, but it was not an order. It was simply a statement of the truth. "I must go alone. I know that."

"How will you find her?" he asked.

"Somehow. I will leave now."

"But why, Mother?" Tess exclaimed, nearly on the verge of tears, as she realized what her mother was about to do for her sake.

"Because if I don't go now, I won't ever be able to. Whoever this demon is, and whatever she wants with us, I must face her now or never."

And to the surprise of both Dominic and Tess, she vanished without so much as a cloud of smoke.

A/N: I hope that you like this… More on everybody soon. Sorry that Victor was not here! His time will come, as will everybody's!

Much love to everyone, especially my reviewers!

Titania

P.S. ObsessiveCompulsive, I hope this satisfied your desire for Helen/Anthony romantic moments! I know that you have been asking!


	26. Family Ties

"Lord de Winter!" Anthony called, seeing his father standing in the hall with Tess. He was still wary of calling him his father, outright.

"What is it, Anthony?" Dominic replied, turning to look at him. He was surprised to see that there was a girl in his arms. "Why, who is…?"

"This is Helen Mastonne, surely you remember her?"

"Oh!" he said, remembering. "Yes, of course. But… why are you carrying her?"

"She doesn't feel well," Anthony said simply. "But… where is Lady de Winter?"

"She's not here," a female voice intoned, even as Tess appeared behind her father. She was staring coldly at Anthony and Helen.

"Where did she go?" Anthony asked, puzzled.

"To settle a score with our mutual acquaintance," Tess answered, looking at the ground and grinding her teeth.

Anthony understood and his brow creased with worry. This could not end well.

"I-I'm going to take Helen upstairs, to rest," he stammered, trying not to think about the outcome of his mother's actions. "I'll return shortly."

Anthony rushed upstairs.

"Emma explained to me," Dominic said with a sigh, when he was out of sight. "She told me that he cannot speak of her, or of anything related to her. But he managed to save Helen! How, I wonder?"

Tess said nothing. She had her suspicions, and jealousy filled her. Anthony loved Helen, that much was obvious. And it would be enough to help Helen, but not her. _She_ was still cursed, and it hadn't even been her fault to begin with.

"Tess?" Dominic asked gently.

"Yes?"

"We're going to help you. This will all improve, you will see."

She looked away, not wanting to show her disappointment to him. What was the point in hoping? Her own situation was desperately hopeless, after all.

"Lord de Winter," Anthony said, coming down the stairs. "Milady," he added, bowing to Tess. She looked away.

"How is it that Lady de Winter is gone?"

"We're not quite sure, Anthony," Dominic admitted. Yes, he knew she could do something like that, but he did not know how.

"And…" Anthony paused, unsure how to continue without compromising himself. "And, can we go after her?"

"I can," Tess said bitterly. "Most likely."

Anthony's face drained of colour, having understood her meaning.

"What if I—?"

"Oh, don't play the hero!" Tess exclaimed, frustrated and angry. "Mother has gone of her own will. She knows what she is doing. Unless you mean to help the _other_ side…"

"No, no!" Anthony could understand why Tess was unhappy, but that did not make him appreciate her cold sarcasm any more. "I only meant to help, somehow."

"You've helped Helen," Dominic said, putting an arm on his shoulder. Anthony looked surprised that he had known. "For now, that will be the best of what we can do."

Anthony nodded and bit his lip. But Eros hadn't figured out how to defeat Sylphide yet. What could his mother do, on her own? And, furthermore, how had she managed to get to Sylphide, in the first place?

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Hello."

"What in the—Who are you?" Victor had been startled from his daydreams of a certain pretty blonde girl by a male voice.

"My name is of no consequence," the voice answered. "I need to know what you think of Tess de Winter."

"Who? Tess? _Oh_.. Theresa de Winter, you mean?" He found himself compelled to speak to this unknown voice in the darkness of the underwater grotto. There was no harm in conversing with a hallucination, if that was what it was.

"Yes, I mean Theresa de Winter."

"She's lovely."

"And?" the voice prompted.

"And what? I've only spoken to her once. Look, who are you?"

"Somebody who can help all of you, I think. Including your poor mother."

"What about my mother?" Victor bristled.

"Haven't you ever wondered why she is always so miserable?"

"She is not miserable!" he said hotly. "She is just…"

"Punishing herself for her youth, which wasn't even directly her fault."

"What are you talking about?" Victor exclaimed, completely lost in the conversation.

"Your mother wasn't always the kindest person, shall we say."

"Oh." Victor now understood. "That. I know she is unhappy about that, but it was in the past, you see? She doesn't live in the past anymore."

"Yes," the voice agreed, "But your prolonged disappearance would drive her right back into it."

"What can I do?"

"Help the Lady de Winter overcome Sylphide."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

"By helping Tess."

"How?"

"Love her. Very simple."

"I hardly know her!" Victor said, surprised.

"Then get to know her better," his interlocuter snapped impatiently, "But do it quickly. Once you help her, that will make everything so much easier. Love is very powerful, you see…"

"That is a terribly overused misconception," Victor said, looking skeptically into the darkness.

"Yes, but nobody would know better about that than I would."

"Which would make you…?"

"Amor. Cupidus. Eros. Choose one!"

"That can't be…" Victor replied, drawing back.

"Victor," Eros said, revealing himself finally in the dark, and raising his eyebrows. "You have a tail. I think that Love is quite possibly more believable than that…"

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"Oh, my brilliant girl!"

Emma looked around, her eyes adjusting to the darkness, and trying to find the source of the exclamation. Suddenly, the whole cave was lit up, as if it had been set aflame. Emma saw a beautiful young woman, wearing flowing blue robes, her eyes lit up with glee.

"Are you the monster that has caused our family so much misery?" Emma demanded, striding towards her.

"Why would I cause your family misery?" the sorceress called Sylphide asked.

"My children, Anthony and Tess… Can you deny that you are the one who treated them so cruelly?" Emma asked, her own eyes flashing.

"I didn't treat them cruelly," Sylphide replied calmly. "I made them more powerful."

"You what?" Emma asked, suddenly confused.

"I wouldn't hurt my own family!" Sylphide exclaimed, at which Emma looked positively horrified.

"_Your_ family?"

"Didn't you ever wonder what became of your Grandmother Sophie?" the sorceress asked, her lips curving into a smile.

"Impossible!" Tess shouted. "Impossible! You are far too young…"

"I am not young at all, darling Emma. I am much older than I used to be, and wiser. I know now that my bloodline is more prevalent in my female descendants, and that there is a way to enhance that power."

Emma couldn't speak. Could this be? It would explain her own abilities… and Frederick's?

"You remember Freddy, then!" Sylphide cried, quite literally reading her thoughts. "As do I, of course. He was my hope. I adored the boy. I taught him how to make the most of his talents, but he decided that instead of taking the wife I had chosen for him, he would come after you. He wanted revenge, you see."

"What wife?" Emma wondered.

"You might remember Aurore? You probably do. I found her at a party in Paris. Quite a charming girl, but her parents boasted too much. I decided to teach them a lesson in humility while I arranged a fitting marriage between my heir and a beautiful girl. I thought to temporarily turn her into a Nereid, but it lasted a bit longer, since Frederick never came for his wife."

"You turned her into a mermaid," Emma said bluntly.

"Yes, that's right, a Nereid. A sea nymph. Quite easy, and it makes the recipient of that particular transformation that much closer to a god or goddess. That much closer to assisting me with their own power."

"But what about Frederick?"

Sylphide frowned. "He wanted none of me afterwards. I told him that I would have his aid, that he owed it to me. He refused and left to look for you. He found you and tricked you into marrying him. But, of course, he fell on your sword, didn't he?"

Emma was beginning to understand. "Did you do it?"

"Actually, no. You did, which was the most surprising thing of all. I wanted you to study with me, to perfect the ability that my heritage has given you. I knew, though, that you would have none of it, so I decided a different approach was necessary." Sylphide looked quite satisfied. "And it worked, for here you are."

Emma was frightened. She did not know who this creature was, exactly, but she was beginning to understand the source of their troubles. Frederick had been the first fatality… Would she be next, if she displeased her?

"Can you fault me?" Sylphide asked, her voice toneless.

"Of course I can!" was Emma's vehement reply. "People are not meant to be used!"

But Sylphide was laughing.

"Is that what you think, child?" she cried with mirth. "Ah, Zeus would disagree."

The name startled Emma. What did the king of the ancients' gods have to do with this?

"Everything," a wicked voice spoke in her ear. "Zeus was a fool. They all were," Sylphide continued, ignoring Emma's ever-widening eyes. "They created man to worship them, but mistakenly tied themselves to man. By now," she said, heaving a sigh of satisfaction, "They are completely powerless, while I grow stronger daily."

Emma's half-formed thoughts prompted a cutting remark. "You are also tying yourself to man. Your power is vested in us."

Sylphide shook her head. "You can help me, dear. Your whole family can help me. You have abilities you cannot imagine. Your children, as well, thought they cannot imagine it, either. But I am not a fool like Zeus and the others: You are at my mercy. Refuse to help me, and I will take that power from you."


	27. Sacrifice

Emma was not an old woman, but at the moment, she felt bent and powerless, unable to act as she ought.

"What do you want from me?" she asked wearily.

"You will restore me to the heavens, to my rightful place in the sky," Sylphide whispered, half closing her eyes, dazed at her own dream which might soon come true.

Emma said nothing for a long time, but then something came to her quite clearly.

"Does it remain?" she asked slowly.

"What?" The goddess spun around and glared.

"Does the Heaven you knew remain, or is it destroyed, as the power of the gods is destroyed?"

Sylphide opened her mouth to respond but realized that she had no answer. In truth, she did not know.

"I see," Emma said, almost to herself. Then, in a louder voice, "I will help you, Sylphide, if you make all as it should be."

"How is that?" the goddess wondered, crossing her arms.

Emma drew herself up to her full height, which was not much compared to the towering stature of the goddess, but still…

"Make my daughter and my son human." Emma would have stopped, but she remembered Aurore, frightened and unable to walk. "Return all you who have cursed with unnatural forms to their former shapes."

Sylphide smiled slowly, realizing that Emma was bargaining, when she had nothing to bargain with. Still, there could be no harm in it. Theresa had magic in her veins without the added magic of a nymph, as did Anthony. Neither needed much help there, and she had no use for the others she had cursed, most of whom had simply irritated her.

"Very well, it shall be done."

As she spoke, Emma saw the words practically write themselves in curled smoke in the air before the goddess, then scatter to the winds that blew from outside the cave.

"Now, it is your turn. Lend me your magic, that I may use it to restore my former glory."

Emma frowned, unable to do as the witch asked immediately.

"How do I go about lending you my magic?"

"Dear girl, you release your spirit from your body and send it into me, of course!" She said it as if any schoolchild should have known the answer to that question.

Emma did not like the prospect of releasing her spirit from her body. It sounded awfully like—

"Death, in a word." Sylphide looked terrible, smiling for all the world like a great serpent that is about to seize its prey.

"I am to die for the sake of your foolish mission to return to a place that may no longer exist?" Emma nearly shrieked.

"You will die in honour, and before your loved ones. A great sacrifice, as in older days."

"What do you mean, before my loved ones?"

"Well, should your magic not suffice, I will have my choice, won't I? Either the boy or the girl, or both together. That certainly will do, but I will spill no unnecessary blood." She was taking on the tone of a kind and goodly schoolteacher, who suggests doing something unpleasant for the sake of something good.

Emma was in a rage and would have been at Sylphide's hair in a minute, had she not been bound by invisible cords at the flick of Sylphide's finger.

"You wretch! You swore no harm would come to my family!" she spat in the goddess's face, struggling fiercely against all-too-familiar bindings.

"Nor will it. Once I am restored, your spirit shall be free, to roam among the clouds in the kingdom that shall be mine and that once belonged to Zeus."

Emma could think only of her mortal husband, her mortal son, and her many mortal friends and family. What would become of them? No, it could not and would not go on.

"Kill me, if you must, but spare them," she pleaded, no longer struggling, desperate to save her children.

"You have wasted your pleas for strangers you do not know," Sylphide said coldly. "Your words have no more power for me. We are off at once!"

And with that, the two disappeared from the cave, which was never to be inhabited nor even found again.

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Victor awoke suddenly from a brief rest to the strange sensation of being surrounded by something rather heavy and unpleasant. It was everywhere and he felt that it was killing him, quickly.

Opening his eyes, he saw the water murkily. Salt rushed into his mouth and his eyes, and he coughed and tried to blink away the sting. He remembered that he should have been able to live here, yet he felt as though he were drowning. Looking down, he saw that his legs had returned to him and he was human again.

And, he realized quickly, he was, in fact, drowning.

With a muffled cry, he shot for the surface, which fortunately, was not far off at all. He gulped in air and treaded water with his weakened limbs, which were heavy with the clothes he had worn at the time of the transformation.

"Damn!" he cursed to the cold air, realizing that he still had quite a way to swim in open water.

No matter. Somehow, he had become human again. Which meant that his chances at finding and helping Tess were much improved. And that, more than anything, gave him the energy to swim the great distance back to shore.

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"Tess, you cannot go!" Dominic commanded, wringing her hand nervously.

"I must," she answered, miserably, but with determination.

Anthony suddenly saw her turn very pale and he himself felt rather strange.

"What—?"

Dominic saw both of his children looking slightly ill for a moment, and they both seemed to hold their breath, then released it as one.

"Oh!" Tess cried, and she began to laugh brightly. "It is gone, it is gone! I feel it!" But at the same moment, she suddenly stopped laughing and began to cry.

"How shall I reach Mother now?"

"You won't need to," a familiar voice rang out. There, in front of them all, stood the witch they knew to be Sylphide. Dominic seized the hands of both his children and pulled them behind himself. He saw his Emma standing beside the witch, saying nothing, yet appearing to want to say something very important.

"Leave my wife and leave this place immediately, witch." His voice was a low growl.

"I will leave you _your wife_, soon enough," she said with incredible disdain, "But I cannot leave this place quite yet, Lord de Winter."

"Monster!" cried Anthony, ripping out of his father's grip and stepping towards her. "Bastard! Murderer!" His accusations seemed to linger in the air.

"I was mother to you, Anthony," she said, almost sadly.

"You were and are nothing to me. Release my mother and leave us be!"

Sylphide looked, for the briefest moment, truly miserable. That expression quickly changed, however, into one of ferocity.

"You will forever weep over this day," she pronounced softly but clearly, taking out a curved knife with a jeweled handle. "Bid farewell to the woman you called 'Mother'."

With those cold and startling words, Sylphide raised the knife and, before anybody could move or say anything, led it quickly across Emma's white neck.

A/N: A long time since I have updated, but I feel that I must finish this story! Please keep reading, and I will try to update tomorrow, as I hate to leave you with such a dreadful cliffhanger.

Titania


	28. The War is Over

Everything seemed to move very slowly. Dominic ran forward to catch Emma's falling figure, and just managed to hold up her head before it hit the ground.

"What have you done?" he screamed, cradling his wife, who had now stopped breathing entirely and whose pulse was fading away quickly.

"Mother!" Anthony and Tess called at the same time, rushing toward their parents.

Emma's eyes were closed and the blood poured from the cut on her neck. Dominic's tears mingled with the blood on his fingers, which were trying to staunch the flow.

Tess threw herself into helping her father, ripping lengths of her skirt to press to the cut, while Anthony turned to the cause for all of their misery.

But Sylphide did not pay attention to the boy as he approached. She did not seem to notice anything, but was standing with her eyes closed and her arms stretched out, as if expecting something large to be placed into them.

"Undo this!" Anthony screamed, grabbing her arm and pulling her to the sand. "I know you can. You must undo this!"

Sylphide opened her eyes, frowning in annoyance at having been interrupted in her meditation.

"I will do nothing. We had arrived at an agreement, Anthony."

"Do you expect me to let you off with that? Help her!" he demanded, grabbing her robes in fistfuls and shaking her.

"Temper, temper, dear boy," Sylphide scolded, brushing his hands away and standing up.

At that moment, Tess began to sob even harder. Emma's heart had stopped beating.

"Save her!" Dominic begged, looking up at Sylphide.

Then, suddenly, something happened which not one of them had expected.

From the water, two figures came striding up. One was taller and slightly older than the other. He had a black beard and was dressed in robes. The other was a young man, soaked to the skin, in a tunic with a royal emblem. Tess instantly recognized the latter, through tear-filled eyes.

"Victor!" she cried out, not leaving her mother's side.

"Miss de Winter," he said, panting from the walk, and, apparently, a long swim.

What nobody else knew was that the older man was also familiar to somebody.

Sylphide paled and nearly fell to the sand again, as she took a step backwards.

"Gods, it can't be!" she whispered to herself.

"Do you fail to recognize your own lover?" the man with the black beard asked her, coming closer.

"Andreas!" she moaned.

"You do recognize me, then, Ida," he said, coming over to her by now and seizing her shoulder. "You have caused such destruction for this family, which, if I am not mistaken, is also your family."

"It is, it is," she mumbled, not daring to look up at him.

Andreas seized her chin and forced her eyes to meet his.

"You thought me dead, as did everybody. What nobody knew was that you had not killed me."

Sylphide stared. "That's not possible."

"Oh? It was Poseidon who sent the wave that took Mycena and me from the shore. She died, of course, but I survived, and hid myself. From men and from gods."

"Why would Poseidon have done such a thing?"

"So that Zeus might have a reason to get rid of you," Andreas said slowly.

Everything clicked then. It had all been a setup.

"And this Mycena?" she asked suspiciously.

"You are still jealous and angry?" he asked, almost amused. "Your brother let slip an extra arrow. If anybody, he is to blame for that brief indiscretion on my part. Of course, you have been even more unfaithful, what with your multiple marriages and even children!"

"But why have you waited so long to return to me?" Sylphide whined.

"I could not have returned on my own. It was your own brother, Eros, who found me, and, with many apologies, helped me to come to this shore and to find you."

"Please!" Victor called from the spot where Emma's body was lying, and where Tess was leaning over her, drowning in tears. "Please, you saved me, kind sir. Help this woman!"

Sylphide then remembered what she had been about to do. The joy of seeing Andreas, whom she thought to be dead, and by her own hand, was overwhelming. Now, the plight of her grand-daughter was swiftly brought back to her mind.

"It is over," she said quietly to the group at her feet. "She is gone."

Before their howls of rage and sorrow could pierce the air, Andreas spoke.

"Are you certain? There must be a death, at the end of this day, but it is not Emma de Winter who must be dead."

Dominic and the others looked up with renewed hope. Andreas continued, turning to them.

"There must be a sacrifice. Somebody must give his or her own life for the lady's."

Without a pause, or a second thought, Victor stood up.

"I will do it."

"Young man, you shou—"

"I will. If I do not, then her daughter will think that I am a coward who could not have done the right thing. She will never look upon me favourably and, since I love her, I cannot live without her favour."

"Victor Everline, I cannot take your life, because you offer it in love," Andreas said to the eager boy. "But, you must also make a sacrifice, of a different kind."

"What is it?" he asked suspiciously.

"There is a woman who owes her own life to the woman who lies there. Your mother."

Victor inhaled deeply, then bit his lip and nodded.

"She would give her life, willingly. Now that my father has died, she would gladly—"

"We will let her decide," Andreas interrupted.

Nobody said anything, confused as they were. Only Tess knew who Victor was, and the other did not understand what was going on in the least, with respect to Andreas.

He, meanwhile, had pressed his palms together and then spread them apart, whispering something into the air. Suddenly, a woman materialized before him. She was about Emma's age, but, unlike Emma, she had a very worn look about her, as if she had worked for many years, and had only recently earned a rest.

"What—?"

She looked around, confused, until she saw Victor.

"Son!" she cried, going over to embrace him. He held her close for a time and then drew back.

"Mother," he said steadily, trying not to let his own fear and sorrow overwhelm him. "Mother, do you recognize this woman?"

He indicated Emma's body.

"It can't be!" his mother cried, after a brief look at her face. "Emma de Winter."

"It is," he affirmed.

"She is… dead?"

"Mother, this man," he indicated Andreas, "Says that she may live again, if a life is offered in exchange for hers."

"Mine, you mean?" she asked, after a pause.

"He has suggested as much."

"No, Victor, I won't let you do this!" Tess cried, jumping up and grabbing his sleeve. "I won't!"

"It's not up to me," he told her, turning around to hold her still, as she was shaking visibly. He did not want her to see how shaken he himself was.

"I will do it," Victor's mother intoned, turning to Andreas. "I will take her place. I owe her that much. I have lived my life and I am tired, but she still has so much to live for. I only ask that she and her husband may take care of my son."

Dominic had also stood up at this point.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"You don't recognize me, Dominic?" she said in response. "I recognize you, though I only saw you once. The years have been kind to you. They have not spared me, as you can see."

Dominic knitted his eyebrows in confusion.

"My name is Maria. I was once the daughter of a duchess and mistress to your wife. When my mother was arrested, I was disgraced and would have died on the streets, had Emma not been kind to me and let me live in a small estate, far from England. There, I worked for many years, trying to scrub away my guilt at what I had done to her. In a strange twist of events which Victor may some day recount to you, but which we have no time for now, I became wife to the prince of Monetto."

Maria had finished her story, and Dominic could see the way the years had worn away her beautiful face, which he remembered vaguely from a ball that had taken place many years ago.

"Will you let me die for her, Dominic? Nothing could spare the years of her childhood that my mother and I stole from her, but I hope that by doing this, a chance I might have asked for years ago, I may give her something to replace those years."

Dominic nodded, after a long silence. "Your son will be like my own."

Maria smiled wearily, then turned to Andreas.

"Send me to my rest, sir, and to my husband," she requested, folding her hands.

Andreas nodded, and, instantly, she had disappeared, her body fading away into the wind, while Emma sat up and coughed.

"What happened?" she rasped, rubbing her throat, as Anthony supported her to sit up fully.

"We will speak of it later," Dominic whispered in her ear, just as Tess went into soft sobs again, and Victor tried to hide the one tear that trickled down his cheek.

Andreas and Sylphide had disappeared.


	29. Epilogue

A Note from the Author:

I do hope that you all enjoyed this rather lengthy continuation of a story that started with Three Simple Gifts this past May. Thanks to all who reviewed and all who read, in fact! I couldn't believe it when Three Simple Gifts reached 10,000 hits, but there you are… Enjoy, keep reading, and, if everybody would really like it, I may take up the stories of the de Winter family yet again. Keep an eye out, it may show up in a very unexpected format!

With my love and thanks,

Titania

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Epilogue

At last, Emma and Dominic found a peace that they had been seeking since the day they got married. When all that they knew was explained to Emma, about Sylphide, and about what Maria had done, she had finally found a true reason to forgive the harm that had been done to her, and she took her former enemy's son into her heart warmly.

Victor Everline took his father's place on the throne of Monetto, taking with him, from England, the daughter of Lord and Lady de Winter. The entire family attended the coronation and the wedding, which took place in Monetto. There, they encountered the Fontaine family after many years, and Nicholas renewed his friendship with Lord Fontaine's daughter, Marjorie.

Celeste, or, as Emma knew her, Aurore, was glad to see an old friend and learn of, if not the destruction, at least the disappearance, of her tormentor.

That same year, the de Winters and the Mastonnes celebrated the wedding of their children, Anthony and Helen. It would take Nicholas another year to gather the courage to ask Marjorie for her hand, but when he did, she accepted him gladly, which was cause for another glad celebration.

Not one of them ever saw Sylphide and Andreas again, although Eros did make an appearance or two to Victor and Anthony when either had a particularly fierce quarrel with his wife, if only to remind them at what price their love was bought.

And they all knew such joy for the rest of their long lives that the sorrow and suffering they endured in the beginning seemed to melt away, leaving only the sunny days stretched out on the sand and splashing in the knee-high warm waves.

The End


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